The Shattered Mirror
by ElvishGrrl
Summary: Elena Gilbert is an intelligent young woman who seems to have it all: good friends, loving parents, caring husband, great new job in her field. Damon Salvatore has his hands full taking care of his clients, his family and his brother with no appreciation from anyone. Neither of them want any complications in their lives, but sometimes life has other ideas. AU/AH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** _This is my first attempt at an AU/AH story, so be gentle. Huge thanks to morvamp for betaing and JWAB, this is my escape, jazzywriter22, WildYennifer, Alaina, Julia and delena123, who all gave me feedback and advice.**  
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***DISCLAIMER*** _I do **NOT** own Vampire Diaries or the characters associated with Vampire Diaries. No copyright infringement intended. __The original story herein, however, belongs to me. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, or any real life occurrences are entirely coincidental.  
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**THE SHATTERED MIRROR**

_**"**__Truth is the shattered mirror strewn in myriad bits; while each believes his little bit the whole to own." - Robert Burton_

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**Chapter 1 **

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**Elena**

Let me just get one thing clear right off the bat. This is not a story about two people who met and fell in love and of course they had hurdles to overcome, sure, but they loved each other enough that nothing was insurmountable. You know the ones – the kind where in the end true love always conquers all. This is a story about real life. And real love. And I want to (and maybe need to) tell you what happened. It may not be unique, but it is ours.

* * *

Some people will tell you that, looking back, they can pinpoint the precise moment when their entire world changed. When their lives were suddenly and abruptly shifted down a different path. I'd heard accounts of this before of course, lots of times, but I hadn't really understood exactly what having a moment like that meant. Most of these same people will also tell you that you don't know it when it happens, you only realize the incredible impact that moment had when you look back later.

I knew the instant it happened to me.

It was just after 11:00 in the morning on my first day of work at Baker, Wright and Salvatore. My new boss, Katherine Pierce was just finishing up giving me an office tour and, though it was still early, I had already reached information overload. Fatigue had set in and my brain was nearly ready to shut down.

I glanced up, over Katherine's shoulder, and saw a man walking down the hallway towards us. He was of medium height for a guy, taller than me by several inches, but not too tall, with broad shoulders and unkempt dark brown hair that I knew instinctively he'd just been running his fingers through. He wore a black button-up dress shirt with the top couple buttons undone, and black, obviously expensively tailored dress pants that clung to his slim hips perfectly.

He saw me and held my gaze with a pair of incredible pale blue eyes and something happened deep within me, something that nearly physically hurt as I looked at him. I forgot everything I'd learned that morning. I forgot who I was. I forgot how to breathe. And I know it sounds trite, but I swear we both froze for what felt like an eternity, although realistically it was probably only a second or two.

Then another man (whom I'd recently been introduced to as Stefan Salvatore) popped his head out of his office and said something to the dark-haired guy. He startled and, of course, broke our strange connection before disappearing inside and closing the door.

You know the phrase 'my heart dropped'? Well, I'd never experience that feeling before. But right then, when he vanished from my sight, I swear it felt like my heart actually fell a few inches. Loud warning bells started clanging in my head. My brain screamed, _'Oh, no, no, no!'' _It followed that up with, '_Shit!_'

Closing my eyes for a second, I took a much-needed breath, desperately hoping that neither Katherine nor anyone else had noticed my strange reaction. What the hell was that all about? I wasn't a fourteen-year-old schoolgirl anymore. So a good-looking guy had caught my eye? So what? Well for starters, _good-looking_ didn't even begin to cover it. He had caused me to react in a way I didn't think was even possible in real life. I had turned into an embarrassing romance novel cliché for a moment there. And secondly, I firmly didn't believe in the silly myth of love at first sight that popular culture and some of my more immature friends spouted. Sure, he was hot, but I was married. And this was my new workplace. So it didn't matter. Couldn't matter.

Except deep down in the pit of my stomach, I knew damn well that it did.

* * *

I'd started off that day – the day that was going to change everything, though I didn't even know it yet – by showing up early.

It was silly of me, in hindsight. Just as my husband Matt had predicted as I'd rushed around our house that morning, all that accomplished was to gain me more time sitting and waiting.

So I sat and I waited. The red second-hand of the retro-style clock on the wall behind the reception desk seemed to be defective. I was positive it was moving far too slowly. Pushing a stray strand of long hair behind one ear, I glanced up at it again

Taking a deep breath, I smoothed the fabric of my knee-length skirt and tried to relax. I was bound and determined to make a good first impression. As I had always done.

I was a Good Girl. It was the category I'd been slotted into from an early age; bestowed upon me by my parents, grandparents and nearly every other adult who'd ever met me. And I had always seen myself through the filter of that description. A Good Girl. A Smart Girl. A girl who Did The Right Thing.

So when I walked into the office to start my first day at Baker, Wright and Salvatore, I was nervous, but confident. They had approached _me_ with the job offer, after all, so I knew they had high expectations. I'd worked at Bellmore & Sons Advertising since graduating from university with my accounting diploma proudly in hand. After seven years and chances of advancement looking slimmer and slimmer at the large firm (I suspect mostly because I'd had the misfortune to be born of the wrong gender), I began exploring other opportunities. When BWS started wooing me, I knew it was the right time to spread my proverbial wings and leave the bosom of 'known' and 'comfortable'. Onwards and upwards, as they say.

My new boss, Katherine, had requested in her most recent e-mail that I arrive at 9:00am instead of the earlier 8:00am I would have really preferred. Of course, I showed up at 8:45 and not a minute later. So there I sat waiting, somewhat impatiently, on a very sleek, modern and therefore predictably hard chair in the front lobby, checking messages on my phone and glancing frequently toward the two large glass doors that swung inward into the office proper.

At 9:04 I began to fidget restlessly and tap my toe on the gleaming hardwood.

At 9:08 I couldn't sit on the uncomfortable chair a moment longer and got up to peruse the company's framed awards bragging audaciously from one otherwise stark white wall. The receptionist spared me a disinterested glance, but then went right back to her typing.

At 9:12 one of the glass doors opened and the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen stepped into the lobby.

"Elena Gilbert?" the stunning brunette with the long curls asked politely, but it wasn't really a question. Katherine's voice had a raspy, rough tone to it, which immediately brought to mind thoughts of long nights spent drinking whiskey in smoky dive bars. Her heart-shaped face showcased a perfect complexion and full plum-glossed lips. Long black lashes framed intelligent dark brown eyes. She was dressed in a stylish charcoal gray business suit: fitted peplum jacket, low-cut rich burgundy blouse underneath that showcased just the right amount of cleavage, short pencil skirt that stopped above the knee at precisely the place where any higher would be deemed 'not business appropriate', and killer burgundy patent leather pointy-toed heels.

If I swung for the other team, I definitely would've been slack-jawed and drooling. As it was, I felt instant admiration. I coveted Katherine's style and poise, and respected the sense of immediate charisma she obviously imparted to anyone who laid eyes on her.

I smiled and stuck out my hand. "I'm Elena."

Katherine gave me a quick once-over before replying, "Katherine Pierce." Her face was carefully composed, betraying no opinion of what she saw before her.

It seemed like she looked down at the neatly trimmed nails of my outstretched hand for just a moment too long before taking it and shaking it firmly, once. I had the strangest fleeting sensation that Katherine hadn't really wanted to touch me, but forced herself to do it anyway.

"Right this way, Elena." Katherine turned around and headed back through the door without waiting to see if I would follow.

I walked a few steps behind her along a wall of opaque glass-doored offices, then turned left and found myself staring at rows of beige walled cubicles. A small black sign was affixed to the side of one padded, non-descript half-wall. White neat letters spelled out the word Accounting. This cubicle-farm in front of me housed my new workspace. My new co-workers. My new life.

A few people turned away from their monitors as I followed Katherine down the center aisle, no doubt anxious for their first glance of the "new girl." I noticed them looking from the corners of my eyes and returned the smile of a pretty young black woman who shot me a large welcome grin as we passed.

Katherine stopped abruptly at an empty cubicle about halfway down the row. A square support post obstructed a portion of the space within. She waved one hand absently toward the desk. "This one's yours. You can leave your coat and any personal belongings you brought with you here, and we'll go to my office to talk about your role here."

I draped my jacket over the back of the chair and resumed following her. We walked into Katherine's office and I took a seat across from the large and extremely messy desk as she sat down and began to explain to me more details about the corporate structure, exactly what they did, and what would be expected of me here.

The three partners, Robert Baker, Lucas Wright and Guiseppe Salvatore founded the advertising firm of Baker, Wright and Salvatore thirty-two years ago. The department I'd be working most closely with was Marketing and Sales, as it would be my job to price out advertising for new business, suggestions for add-ons and any changes the clients decide to make down the line. I would have lots of contact with the Account Managers and their admin assistants. Katherine started listing the names and roles of some of the people I'd be working with, both here and in their satellite offices across the country, while I jotted down notes in my day planner.

I was surprised to find myself feeling a bit intimidated by my new boss, and other women didn't usually intimidate me. In fact, in the past I'd often found that other women seemed to be intimidated by _me_. Katherine Pierce, however, was not intimidated by me in the slightest. In fact, I was willing to hedge a guess that Katherine Pierce was _never_ intimidated. By anyone.

* * *

**Damon**

Goddamn it! I was running late. Again. Shit. I'd had an early morning client meeting in Richmond and gotten stuck in fucking rush-hour traffic trying to escape the city to get back to the office. As it was, I'd be lucky if I got into work by 11:00 am. Too much to do and too little time to do it in, as usual.

I sped down the highway toward Lynchburg, hoping like hell I wouldn't pass any police cars. Reaching over, I twisted the knob on the radio dial until loud rock music filled my classic Camaro, but the throbbing beat only incited me to hit the pedal harder. The aforementioned client, _The Happy Tomato_ restaurant, was proving to be a pain in my ass. They wanted to advertise, sure; they just didn't really want to pay for it. Everybody wanted everything for damn-near free these days. Which meant more meetings, more wowing, more cajoling, more of my precious time spent holding their hands and coddling them, when what I really _should_ be spending my valuable time on was seducing bigger, richer, higher-profile clients. I had my own bills to pay, too, after all.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed in frustration. I'd always been able to sweet talk my clients, turn on the charm and make the sale. It's what I excelled at. But to be honest, lately I'd been feeling a little off my game. My mind just wasn't as focused as it used to be. Other things insisted on vying for my attention. Work things. Home things. My brother's issues. My previous ability to compartmentalize all these aspects of my life away and just focus on the task at hand had been wavering lately, and all these different worries had begun bleeding through – sometimes at the most inopportune times.

Which pissed me off, because I was _always_ focused, always in control, always got shit done.

Fucking Stefan. Keeping my brother's secrets while trying to reign him in and clean up his messes – _that's_ what was throwing me off the most lately. And the little shit didn't even appreciate what I was trying to do for him. Stefan wouldn't admit he even _had_ a problem, for Christ's sake. And it's not like I could even go to Daddy Dearest for any help with the matter. First of all, Stefan would deny it in public, then plot to murder me for tattling in private. Second of all, Guiseppe Salvatore would never believe that his youngest son could possibly have a secret addiction problem and definitely find a way to somehow make it all _my_ fault, like he'd been in the habit of for the past twenty-nine years. Stefan could do no wrong in his eyes. I was the one who always fucked everything up. So, no, telling our father was not an option. I needed to deal with Stefan myself.

The simple truth was, whether I liked it or not some days, I loved my baby brother and wanted more for him than the hell Stefan was currently creating for himself. It may be a thankless task, helping family, but you just do it anyway. Cause they're _family_. Enough said.

I sighed as I pulled into the parking lot at work at four minutes past eleven. The day had started out shitty, and now I couldn't help but imagine the ways in which it might invariably get worse. What further torments awaited me inside? Another argument with Stefan? A dressing down from my father? A confrontation with the she-bitch-from-hell known as Katherine? All of the above?

Most days I loved being out on the road, helping my clients, addressing their concerns and making them happy. I enjoyed it and I was damn good at it. Being in the office, however, tended to be a far different story. Most people at work didn't like me very much. They all still judged me on my past and refused to consider the possibility that I might have changed. Eventually I'd just stopped caring and stopped bothering attempting to be anything beyond civil to most of them. Well, with a few notable exceptions. My admin assistant, Rose, was a godsend. I don't know how, but she put up with all my demands and all my moods. Somehow she just _got_ me - one of the few women in the world who actually could. I didn't know what I'd do if she ever decided to leave BWS. And then there was Ric, in Accounting. I'd discovered, while killing time at the bar at the fresh hell they call our Corporate Christmas Party a few years back, that Alaric Saltzman not only preferred the same brand of whiskey I did, but that the man also was a bit of a kindred spirit. And those were few and far between in my life. Ric had become more than just a co-worker. I respected the fuck out of him and considered him a genuine friend.

But most of the people behind those doors thought I was an ass, only still employed there not because I was skilled at my job, but because my father was a partner. So the chances of the rest of the day passing without further annoyance seemed unlikely. I wondered just how much crap I'd have to endure before it was over.

Then a vision of the cherubic face of my sweet baby girl, Alexis, popped into my head. I thought about how happy she'd be when I walked in the door later and swung her up into my arms. How her huge blue eyes would light up and how she would smile her toothy child's grin just for me as she squealed in glee when I ticked her arms. At that image, I felt most of my tension drain away.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and walked into the office.

If I'd known then what I know now, would I have done anything different? Would I have turned on my heels, gotten right back into my car and drove away? I've wondered that a thousand times over and ultimately I still think I wouldn't have changed a thing. Everything happens for a reason and you just never know when change is gonna grab you by the balls and squeeze.

Plus, how the fuck was I to know that in a few minutes my life was about to start a slow roll down a very big, very treacherous mountain?

* * *

**Elena**

A low headache was starting to creep its tendrils up from the base of my skull to wrap around my brain. I'd tossed and turned much of the previous night in anticipation of starting my new job in the morning, and so far had been running mostly on adrenaline, but now my mind was overloaded with so much information that the inevitable exhaustion was beginning to set in. How would I ever remember my way around this maze of a building? How could I possibly recall which name belonged with each of these new faces?

Katherine's silky voice interrupted my thoughts. The undertone of boredom that had subtly infiltrated all her comments and introductions over the office tour so far was suddenly gone. "This is the Marketing department. As I mentioned earlier, you'll be working very closely with everyone here, as they rely on Accounting to get them the hard numbers they need to present to our clients."

We stopped beside a cubicle where a pretty blonde woman was chattering into a headset as she simultaneously typed frantically away on her keyboard. The blonde looked up at Katherine, widened her dark blue eyes, and began to end her phone conversation. She tugged off the headset and swung her chair around to face us expectantly.

"You must be Elena, the new accountant," she chirped with a wide grin as she stuck out one hand. "I'm Caroline Forbes, administrative assistant to Stefan Salvatore."

Salvatore? As in one of the partners, Salvatore? What did Katherine say his first name was again? I couldn't remember, so I made a mental note to ask later.

I shook Caroline's outstretched hand and returned her smile. The other woman's bubbly personality was contagious and I felt my spirits perk up a bit. "Great to meet you," I replied warmly.

"Caroline will be your main liaison with Stefan's block of business," Katherine explained. "Most of the requests for pricing for his clients will come directly from Caroline. She's worked here for five years and should be able to help you with any questions you might have about either Stefan's clients or this department in general." Caroline nodded in agreement.

"Great!" I said, trying my best to appear enthusiastic. "I'm sure I'm gonna need to take you up on that."

"I remember how overwhelming it can be at the start. Don't worry; you'll be up to speed in no time. Hey, if you don't already have plans for lunch, would you like to join Bonnie and me?"

Bonnie? I recalled that Katherine had introduced me to a woman named Bonnie earlier. The idea of lunch with a couple of co-workers around my own age sounded like the perfect opportunity to begin making friends here. I smiled at Caroline gratefully. "Bonnie from my department? That would be great! Thank you."

I noticed Katherine giving us an impatient look. She turned to Caroline and brusquely asked, "Is Stefan in his office?"

"You're in luck," Caroline said. "He just got in about twenty minutes ago."

I frowned in confusion. Only twenty minutes ago? He got into work at 10:30 in the morning?

Katherine must have noticed my expression, because she quickly clarified, "Stefan is an Account Manager, so he has to meet with clients a lot outside the office. You'll find that the AM's aren't physically in the building much of the time. Come on, I want you to meet him." She started walking towards an office with the door slightly ajar. The nameplate on the wall beside it read 'Stefan Salvatore'.

"Talk to you later then. Thanks again!" I said to Caroline as I followed my boss.

"See you at lunch!"

Katherine knocked on the door firmly, once, then swung it fully open and walked inside. I heard a sigh and an obviously irritated male voice start to say, "What do you w-" but it cut off sharply when I stepped into the office behind her.

Sitting behind another large and cluttered desk was a man of about thirty if I had to guess. He was handsome, in an athletic kind of way, with light brown hair gelled up into a perfect coif above his wide forehead, and a thick jaw-line. When he stood up upon seeing me, I noticed he had to be close to six feet tall. "Oh," he said, cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. "I didn't realize you had someone with you."

Katherine's tone was all business. "This is Elena Gilbert, my new accountant. I told you about her starting today, remember?" She turned back to me. "Elena, this is Stefan Salvatore."

Stefan gave me an appraising scan and looked genuinely impressed by what he saw. Sticking out a hand, he said, "Pleased to meet you, Elena. Welcome to Baker, Wright and Salvatore." He smiled widely and his rich green eyes smiled along with him.

"You, too, Mr. Salvatore. If you don't mind me asking, would you happen to be related to the Salvatore whose name is on the side of the building?" I inquired. His face seemed open enough, so I figured I might as well go for it and get the question out of the way.

"My father, Guiseppe. Nepotism has not gone out of style around here, as you'll see," Stefan said, with a wry grin. "You'll likely meet him soon enough, although he's semi-retired now, so spends as many days as he can on the golf course, instead of stuck in the office. And please call me Stefan. Did you meet my associate, Caroline, on your way in?"

"She did," Katherine replied for me, and Stefan looked back over at her. "They're having lunch together today, actually. I'm sure she'll fill Elena in on all the goings-on here."

He frowned for a split-second, but turned back to me and quickly replaced it with a smile. "Good. She's really my right arm around here. I'd be lost without her." I saw Katherine's eyes narrow slightly at that. "Well, if you need anything, Elena, don't hesitate to ask Caroline or myself. We'll be more than happy to help you out."

"Thank you. Everyone seems so nice so far. I can't wait to get settled in."

"We won't take up any more of your valuable time this morning, Stefan," Katherine interjected. "I _would_ like to speak with you about the Tuscan Airlines campaign later though, if you can spare a few minutes." Katherine seemed just a tiny bit strained, although she was obviously trying hard to hide it. I was pretty good at people-reading though; I heard the miniscule quaver in her voice on the last few words and it surprised me. I wondered if the two had some sort of history. Caroline would likely know. I guessed if there was a back-story, before long I'd hear about it. Not that I was really one for office gossip, but I'd found in the past that understanding the personal relationships between key people in my direct working circle could sometimes be fundamental in knowing how to react to situations.

"C'mon, Elena, there are more people to meet in this department," Katherine said, as she guided me out of Stefan's office.

"There are two other Account Managers that work out of this office. I know Carol Lockwood isn't in this week, as she's down in Florida, but Damon might be around." We walked over to an office down the hallway from Stefan's. The nameplate outside the wide-open door read 'Damon Salvatore'.

Katherine must have seen me eyeing it. "Stefan's brother," she explained. "I see he's not in. Well, maybe that's for the best today. You'll meet him soon enough." She turned up a row of cubicles nearby.

I couldn't help stealing a glance inside the other Salvatore's office as I passed. It was impeccably neat. Chair pushed into the desk, file folders and mail stacked in a tray in one corner and along the credenza by the wall. Two smaller guest chairs sat perfectly parallel to the wall opposite the desk. A hinged photo frame rested beside the computer monitor, displaying a wedding photo on the left and a portrait of a smiling young child on the right. Though I was tempted to step further inside for a closer look, I knew I shouldn't. Even the man's pens were lined up orderly beside the keyboard. Evidently Damon Salvatore was a bit OCD. I could somewhat relate to that. Matt was completely unconcerned with neatness, and the messes he invariably left in his wake around our house were one of the few things about him that drove me absolutely crazy.

Katherine's voice interrupted my thoughts. She'd obviously seen me scanning the empty office. "His wife is Andie Star, from the evening news in Mystic Falls," she offered. "Small town minor celebrity. You probably know of her?"

My eyes widened as I clicked in immediately. Yes, I knew exactly who Andie Star was. Matt watched the local news nearly every evening over supper and he'd admitted a few times that he thought she was hot. Andie had gone to Mystic Falls High with us, years ago.

I turned to Katherine. "I do know who she is, yes. We actually went to the same high school." Though we'd never run in the same social circles, I seemed to recall that we'd had one or two classes together at some point. It was a small world to think that I'd soon be working with Andie's husband.

A woman in her early thirties with shoulder-length layered brunette hair stood up to greet us and Katherine led me over her. "This is Rose Kirby, Damon's admin assistant," she explained. I smiled graciously, faking alertness, and shook her hand.

So many faces. So many names. They all seemed very nice and I was sure after a few days, or a few weeks at the outside, I'd easily remember all of them. But right now all this information and all these people were beginning to blur together. We'd gone through five departments before this one. I was polite, and smiled when I was supposed to, but all I could think about was that this tour was nearly over and I couldn't wait to get back to my desk and just take a breath. Since I'd come in at 9:00, I'd have to stay here until at least 5:00. And then drive back to Mystic Falls. It was going to be an early to bed night tonight, of that I was very, very certain.

Seconds later, although the extent of it wasn't fully grasped at the time, my world was thrown a gigantic curveball. It wasn't until late that night as I tossed and turned in bed, unable to succumb to sleep, unable to get the face of the blue-eyed man out of my head, that I started to get how much potential this had to become a problem if I wasn't careful.

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_**A/N2** Please leave a review and let me know what you think. This will be a long story, maybe around 30 chapters or so. I will try my best to update once a week or so for you guys. Also, it will be a slow-burn.  
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_Reviews are love, as my friend Chelley always says!  
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_Follow me on twitter: elvishgrrl  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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**Elena**

I'd just finished sitting with Alaric Saltzman, taking notes as he showed me how to process certain billings that our department was responsible for at the end of each month. Alaric seemed like a really cool guy. He was so much more laid back than everyone else I'd met so far.

He was tall and lanky, with floppy sandy blonde hair and an easy smile. Alaric had been doing the bulk of my training over the past three days, and with spending so much time together we'd started to get to know each other. We both commuted into Lynchburg from Mystic Falls every day, and he warned me how icy the roads sometimes got in the winter. Though he wasn't originally from Mystic Falls, he'd been living there for a few years and we discovered we had the same favourite waitress at the Mystic Grill and we both had Pizza Palace on our speed dial for when we craved fast food and were too lazy to leave home. I told him I'd married my high-school sweetheart four years ago. He confessed to me how happily in love he was with his new girlfriend, Jenna.

Between training with Alaric and lunch every day with Bonnie and Caroline, I'd made some friends and was already starting to feel more comfortable at BSW.

As I walked out of Alaric's office, I heard Katherine call my name.

"Elena, come into my office for moment." She rarely used the words please or thank you.

I spun on my heels and went to her door. Where I promptly stopped breathing. I vaguely heard Katherine say, "I don't believe you've had a chance to meet my new accountant yet. This is Elena Gilbert." She turned my way, but I couldn't break eye contact with the man standing in front of me.

"Elena, this is Damon Salvatore. As you know, he's one of our Account Managers."

Damon Salvatore. The man I'd locked eyes with (and felt my gut drop onto the floor over) on my first day was Damon Salvatore. The same Damon Salvatore who was married to Andie Star.

The Damon who was Stefan's older brother. The Damon that Caroline and Bonnie pretty much despised. _Shit_.

I suddenly realized they were both waiting for me to react somehow – say something, shake his hand, do anything, really. Not just stand there like some blushing, slack-jawed buffoon, whom I was currently doing an amazing job of imitating.

"Pleased…pleased to meet you, um, Damon," I faltered. _Wow_. Could I make a worse first impression? Red-faced – check. Stammering – check. Perhaps I could trip over my own feet and fall straight into his arms next? Then this whole thing would seem like a perfect meet-cute from one of the chick flicks my friend Dana had made me watch. Except in those, the awkward girl and the gorgeous guy always end up falling in love and living happily ever after by the time the credits roll. And neither one of them are ever married to other people.

Damon reached out for my hand and it raised up as if it had a mind of its own and slipped into his. I hoped desperately that he didn't notice how damp my palm was. The corners of his eyes crinkled adorably as he smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back. When his fingers closed around mine and shook my hand politely, I swear I felt a low thrum of electricity shoot up my arm and fly straight to my lower belly.

"I look forward to working with you. Elena," he said in a low smooth tone. There was a definite gap before he added my name to the end. It sounded like he'd rolled it around on his tongue for a second, like he was tasting it to see how it felt on his lips.

God, was it just me or did this man absolutely ooze sex appeal? I reluctantly pulled my fingers out of his grasp and dragged my eyes from his. Katherine was giving us a curious look. Not good. I flashed him an apologetic smile, mumbled something about having to get back to my training and then got the hell out of there. It was an inelegant exit, but at that point I just had to escape.

Slipping into my cubicle, I dropped my forehead into my hands and heaved a frustrated sigh. I needed to get a handle on this little crush I seemed to have developed and fast, before it ended up causing me difficulties I really, really didn't want.

* * *

"So, how's your first week been?" Matt asked me, as we were getting ready for bed on Friday night. "You haven't said much."

He also hadn't been around much to chat with. Matt taught auto shop at Mystic Falls High and between all the end of year after-school help his students needed, and coaching the football team two nights a week and Saturday mornings, he was a busy guy.

"Good," I replied nonchalantly, pulling on my pajama bottoms. "They do things a bit differently than Bellmore, but my training's going well."

He climbed into our bed and threw back the covers on my side for me. "Meet any cool people?"

Immediately I thought of Damon, but I guiltily shoved the image of his handsome square-jawed face aside. Sliding under the sheets, I replied, "Yes, actually, several. I told you about Caroline and Bonnie the other day."

Matt nodded. "Oh, yeah. The office gossip, right?"

"Caroline's not…okay, well, yeah. Sorta." I laughed. "They're both great, though. Their stories are hilarious. And remember I mentioned the guy who's been training me? The one who lives in Mystic Falls, too?"

"Yeah. The guy with the weird name."

"Alaric. Yep. He's great – I really like him and I think you'd like him, too. Maybe I'll set up a time for us to meet him and his girlfriend at the Grill for drinks. It'd be fun." I smiled at the thought. I'd have to ask Alaric next week about planning a double date sometime. I was pretty sure he'd go for the idea.

"Sounds good to me. What about your boss? Katherine? She decent?"

I paused to think about that. "She's…hmm. I'm not exactly sure what I think about her yet. She's a no-nonsense kind of person and expects a lot from me, but I can respect that. She always looks so perfect and in control, yet her office is cluttered and disorganized. I honestly can't tell if she likes me or not."

Matt turned to me and ran a hand lightly up my arm. "Of course she likes you, 'Lena. Everybody likes you." He smiled at me reassuringly.

"Not everyone. Not that girl who had such a huge crush on you in college. Remember her?" I asked, with a teasing grin.

He chuckled. "Cindy. How could I forget? Yeah, she _hated_ you. I never understood how anyone could ever hate you."

"She hated me 'cause I was your girlfriend. She couldn't get her claws into you and it was my fault you wouldn't even look her way. I kinda get that."

"Even twelve years in, I still only have eyes for you," he said seriously, shuffling closer to me on the bed. He resumed stroking his fingers along my arm.

"You're sweet," I replied, suddenly realizing where this was headed.

His hand slid up to my shoulder and around the back of my neck and then his face was close to mine. "It's been a while, "Lena," he whispered, as he began to plant soft kisses along my jaw.

To be honest with you, I wasn't really in the mood. But he was right; it _had_ been a while. And there was no real reason why I should want to push him away.

So, I didn't. But I'd be lying if I said that the face I pictured when I closed my eyes and kissed my husband, the hands I imagined as Matt touched my body, belonged to him.

* * *

It was a beautiful, warm sunny morning and I sat at the kitchen table in my pajamas, sipping coffee and staring at my laptop screen. I was sorting through all the notes I'd taken over my first week at work, trying to organize them logically for easy retrieval. I was definitely not distracted with thoughts about a certain dark-haired Account Manager. Nope, that wasn't happening at all.

The phone rang, startling me out of my reverie. It was my mom with a last minute invitation to come over for lunch. I glanced up at the clock on the microwave and frowned. It was already 11:11 am. Where had my morning gone?

"Matt's coaching this morning. Not sure he'll be back in time for lunch," I responded doubtfully.

"Well, you come on over then, Elena. He's welcome to meet us here when he's done, if he likes."

Hmm. Spending time with my mom today was not exactly how I'd imagined filling my Saturday afternoon. The two of us always seemed to butt heads about something, and I usually ended up feeling like I was letting my mother down, somehow. On the other hand, my dad was home this weekend and I wanted to check in with him, see how he was doing. I loved hanging out with my father. No one could send me into fits of hysterical laughter like he could.

"Okay, Mom, I'll let him know. Need me to pick anything up on my way?"

She didn't and I hung up. Sighing, I saved the file I was editing and stood up. I hadn't been able to concentrate very well anyway.

Thirty minutes later, I was showered and dressed. Since it was the weekend, I didn't bother straightening my long mousy brown hair and opted for a high ponytail instead. It made me look almost like a teenager again, which in my mind wasn't a bad thing.

It was a warm, early summer day and I decided to walk, figuring the fresh air might help clear my head a bit.

Mystic Falls was so pretty in June. The huge oak trees that lined my street draped their bright green arms over the road, each stretching to reach across and touch the tree opposite. A virtual rainbow of vibrant flowers was in bloom in everyone's front gardens that I passed. Birdsong intermingled with the constant hum of busy lawn movers. I couldn't have picked a more perfect day if I'd tried.

I arrived at the home I'd grown up in about fifteen minutes later. Pausing on the sidewalk for a moment, I smiled fondly at the two-storey white colonial with black shutters framing the windows. It had a large wrap-around porch where one could sit, unnoticed, and watch the world go by. So many memories held court within those walls. Sometimes my heart ached with longing for a return to the simplicities of my childhood.

The front door opened and my dad stood framed within, beckoning for me to come inside. He was tall and stocky, with a shock of thick brown hair laced with fissures of steely gray. I had inherited my dark locks and brown eyes from him, but my slim build and petite facial features were all my mother's.

Smiling, I bounded up the porch steps and through the doorway, throwing my arms around my father in greeting.

"How are you feeling, Daddy?" I asked.

"Better, sweetie. Better," he replied, stepping back from me. "More importantly, how are you? Settling in at the new place?"

"Don't change the subject," I admonished. "Are you still doing the exercises you were told to do? When do you go back to see the specialist again?" My dad had had a small heart attack a few months ago that had given us all a bad scare. He was back to work now and claiming he was fine, but of course I still worried about him. He was only five years shy of retirement and both my mother and I really wished he'd cut back on the long hours he put in at the automotive plant. His doctor had told him pretty much the same. But Grayson Gilbert was a stubborn man. He wasn't about to be told how to live his life by any doctors.

"Not for a few weeks. Stop worrying, 'Lena. You're as bad as your mother sometimes. Now come sit down and eat and tell us all about your new job."

I examined his profile carefully as he stepped into the kitchen to finish setting the table. In this light, he seemed a tad pale for June. Or maybe I was just imagining things. I made a mental note to ask my mom when he was out of earshot. Then I joined my parents in the kitchen and began to tell them all my latest news.

* * *

**Damon**

I stood unnoticed in the doorway of his office, watching Alaric absentmindedly sip on black coffee as he studied rows of numbers on a page in front of him. His face held that frustrated look I'd seen before and I quickly understood the columns weren't calculating out quite right. Somewhere in there lurked a tiny error and I knew he was determined to find it.

Eventually, I decided to announce my presence with a quick rap of my knuckles against his partially open door. Irritation was written all over his face as he looked up to see which asshole was interrupting his concentration. Luckily he broke into a relaxed smile at the sight of this particular asshole leaning against the door frame.

"Morning, Damon."

"Hope I'm not bothering you, Ric. Mind if I come in?" I asked, stepping into the office. Thick file folders were piled on the corner of his desk and on the floor along one wall. At least three of them were stacked, open, on his desk blotter with various post-it notes scattered across the pages.

"No problem, buddy. Have a seat." Alaric gestured to the chair opposite his desk. "What can I do for you?"

I dropped into it and leaned back casually. "Any possibility you have the figures I need for Virginia TeleComm yet?"

With a vaguely surprised look, he shook his head and replied, "Nope. Not a chance. Didn't you only e-mail me about that yesterday? Your rush is in queue beneath the other three rushes that came before it."

"What if a bottle of Glenfiddich miraculously appeared on your desk tomorrow morning? Would that help my request miraculously appear on the top of your pile today?" I wheedled.

Alaric raised an incredulous eyebrow in my direction. "No."

"Two bottles?"

With a sigh, he gave me a pointed stare. "Make it three," he finally said, after a few moment's reflection. "Long weekend's coming up." He was obviously struggling to restrain a smile.

My lips curled up into a self-satisfied smirk. "I knew you could be persuaded."

"Don't be a dick. And don't even consider leaving anything in here." Shuffling a few folders around on his desk, Ric found the one marked 'Virginia TeleComm' and dropped the thick file beside his keyboard with a thud. "The things I do for you sometimes. I'm _so_ gonna get an ear full of shit from Katherine if she finds out I re-prioritized you over your brother. You know that, right?"

Yes, I definitely did. I was fully aware of exactly how Katherine would react, and it wouldn't just be him that would get verbally ripped to shreds. Not that I cared if the bitch tore me a new one - hell, I actually relished the thought of having a good excuse to tell her off. But, though I knew Ric could handle himself, I didn't really want to cause him any additional hassles.

"If she does, you can blame it all on me."

The grin he was holding back broke out in full force. "Dude, you _know_ I will."

Deciding to change the subject, I prodded, "So, the new girl…"

He looked up at me sharply. "Elena?"

"Yeah, Elena. The new accountant. Thoughts?" I tried my best to appear completely nonchalant. The leggy brunette had been popping into my head far too frequently since I'd first seen her over a week ago. I'd be thinking about something mundane, like when my next meeting was, or putting gas in my car, or what book I was planning on reading to Alexis that night, and suddenly random images of her big brown eyes or her shy smile would just flash across my mind. I really didn't understand it. Yes, she was gorgeous, but so was Andie. Hell, so were lots of women. I had no idea why this particular one kept sneaking into my thoughts.

Ric cleared his throat before replying. "I don't know her all that well yet. But first impressions? She's smart as a whip. Knows her stuff. A fast learner. A bit reserved. I like her." The smile on his face attested to that. "Why?"

I flashed him a lopsided grin in return. "She sounds perfect. Wonder how long before she gets bored of this place and moves on?" I paused and looked at him pointedly. "Nothing else to add?"

Alaric narrowed his brows and sighed. "Not sure what you want from me, Damon. No doubt, she's pretty, but she's married. And I've been with Jenna for three months now, so it's not like I'm looking. If I were single, it'd maybe be a different story. But I'm not."

And neither was I. I needed to remember that. If I were single, these fantasies of Elena pressed against the back of my office door with one long leg hooked over my hip as I did nasty, sinful things to her would be decidedly less unsettling.

"Cool. I was just curious." I stood up to leave. "Thanks, Ric. Always a pleasure. And you should think about checking the backseat of your car before you leave for the weekend. You just never know when someone might leave you a Fourth of July present."

Alaric shook his head and chuckled as I left his office, trademark smirk plastered firmly in place.

* * *

**A/N **___Wow, guys! Thank you SO much for all your reviews and favourites - they mean so much to me! _Massive thanks to morvamp for betaing and JWAB, jazzywriter22, sauriemilia, chellethebelle, Julia, Alaina and delena123 for all their advice.

_Please let me know what you think of this chapter by leaving me a review in the little box below. I would be so grateful if you did!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

**Elena**

_I'm walking down a hallway at work, trying to keep up with Katherine, who is moving far faster than seems practical in her bright red stilettos. The rapid and relentless _click, click, click _of her heels on the linoleum fills my ears. I observe faceless people trying to get Katherine's attention, but she completely ignores them all. _

_All the doors that line the left side of the corridor are closed tightly. My heart-rate is picking up and I start to feel a bit anxious, but I'm not really sure why. Katherine stops abruptly in front of one of the doors and turns to it. It opens and Stefan appears, taking a step into the hall. He looks at Katherine, then at me, then back at Katherine again. For a split second he appears to be confused, but then he threads a hand into her hair and roughly pulls her to him. Kissing passionately, they back into the office behind him and slam the door shut._

_I'm shocked at what I just witnessed and look around to see if any of the other people noticed this inappropriate display in the workplace. Narrowing my eyes in confusion, I see I'm now all alone. The building is eerily silent; not even sounds of Stefan and Katherine from behind the door reach my ears._

_Moving further along the hallway, I realize that I'm looking for his office, looking for _him_, more specifically. Eventually I stop in front of a closed office door and focus my gaze on the black nameplate beside it. Salvatore. I know it's Italian and I fleetingly wonder what it means. The cool metal of the doorknob in my grip grabs my attention next. I hadn't even realized I'd put my hand on it. I know I can't go in there - it wouldn't be right. And what if I got caught? Nope, not gonna go in. My fingers don't listen to my logical mind though; they twist the knob and push open the door._

_The office is empty and I'm simultaneously relieved and disappointed. I slip inside, leaving the door behind me ajar. Walking over to his desk, I pick up the hinged photo frame and examine the pictures within. Andie, in her wedding dress, is smiling widely. She has unnaturally large teeth for a woman. But she looks radiant. And happy. Both of her arms are wrapped around Damon's waist and her head is tilted into his. A knot of jealousy curls into a tight little ball inside me and I turn my attention to Damon. He's wearing a black suit with a slim black tie and has one arm around his new bride. He's smiling, too, although it's really more of a half-smile. One side of his mouth is curved up, no teeth showing. As usual, his dark hair looks like he's just run his fingers through it. Or maybe Andie did right before the shot was taken? Who knows? He looks sexy as hell. No surprise there._

_The curly-haired child in the other photo looks to be maybe two or three years old. I study her features, looking for signs of Damon. She has dark hair, like her daddy, and his big blue eyes, but her wide smile is all her mother's. The little girl is adorable. Looking at this photo makes me wonder what kind of a father he is. _

_I set it back down on the desk and turn toward the door, with the intent to continue searching for him. I gasp and my breath catches in my throat as I see Damon standing stock still with one hand on the doorknob, silently watching me._

"_Elena…" he starts, but he trails off. _

_He's staring at me intensely and a rush of heat floods my face. I find I'm unable to speak, unable to move, snared in his serious gaze like some kind of frightened rabbit. My heart is beating faster, pounding so loudly against my ribcage that I swear he must be able to hear it. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my temples. Are my fingers shaking? I think my whole body must be. But I'm not a rabbit and this reaction is not out of fear. Well, maybe it is, a little. Yes, okay, fear and excitement and lust and, and…_

_With one hand, he pushes the door closed behind him and approaches me slowly, cautiously, like he's afraid I'll spook and run away. He's right to be cautious. But I won't. I _should_ run away, really, really should. But I'm not going to. I'm not going anywhere. Because I want this. Want it so badly. Maybe more than I've ever wanted anything. _

_He whispers my name again and long-forgotten emotions well up from deep within me and gush to the surface. More than anything I want him to just touch me. I'm trembling with anticipation. Please, God, let him touch me._

_And then he does._

_His hand is on the side of my face, caressing my cheek, and his hypnotizing blue eyes are suddenly only inches from my own. I can't help it; I flutter my lashes closed and part my lips in expectation. His fingers slip around to stroke the back of my neck and tug my head forward. And then he's kissing me. And I'm kissing him. And it's gentle and soft and sweet…and oh, I know we shouldn't be doing this. I know it's wrong. Really, I do. But it doesn't _feel_ wrong. And right now I don't care about things like right and wrong. I don't care about anything but this, but us. I'm completely lost in this moment with him.  
_

_His other hand slides around my waist and pulls me tight against him as he deepens our kiss. I open my mouth to him, allowing him access, stroking his tongue against my own. His body feels so hard against my soft chest. I can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against my hip through his pants. One of my hands strokes up and down his back and the other dives into his thick tangle of hair. I want nothing more than this. Nothing more than Damon..._

* * *

With a gasp I woke up, fingers knotted in the sheets and thighs clenched together tightly. My heart was racing. Scrunching my eyelids tightly closed, I took a deep breath to calm myself before rolling over to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 3:42 in the morning. I sighed and plucked my damp pajama top away from my chest as I realized it was soaked with sweat. Great.

Carefully, so as not to disturb Matt, I slid out of bed. I grabbed a clean nightgown from my dresser drawer and as quietly as possible made my way in the dark out to the hallway and into the bathroom.

I flicked the light-switch and dragged off my damp clothing before pulling the fresh shirt over my head. Squinting in the glare, I stared at myself in the mirror. I blushed, remembering just what had woken me up. I'd been dreaming about Damon. Dreaming about kissing Damon. It was _so_ vivid. I reached up and pressed two fingers against my lips. I swore I could still feel him on my skin.

_Oh God._ What if I thought about that dream when I saw him at work next? The very last thing I wanted to do was appear like a grade school girl with a crush. Not only would that be incredibly awkward, it would also be very unprofessional. And being unprofessional was the very last impression I wanted to give.

Caroline and Bonnie had filled me in about Damon. Oh yes, they had told me plenty.

Damon Salvatore was not very well liked at BWS. That fact had become fairly evident to me before I'd even finished my first week. According to Bonnie, he used to have a pretty serious drinking problem, back before he started dating Andie. He had even lost his drivers license for a while once after being charged with a DUI, which was a pretty serious handicap if you had clients you had to visit regularly across much of Virginia. But he was a partner's son, so of course he didn't lose his job and they had found ways around it for him.

I also knew he apparently had anger management issues. The girls spoke of abrasive e-mails they'd received and verbal spats they'd either overheard or been directly involved in. The general opinion of most people there seemed to be that he was an arrogant asshole who had no respect for them, and who always had to have his way.

There was a lot of history between Damon, Katherine and Stefan to consider, too. Caroline had told me that Stefan had left Katherine because she'd been having an affair with his big brother, but both Damon and Katherine had always denied this. Bonnie refused to opine on that particular issue, but Caroline was convinced it was all true. She claimed there had been rumours of Damon and Katherine secretly hooking up since before Stefan had even married her.

I filed each nugget of information away in my mind, but I was a woman who preferred to form my own opinions about people. Since I barely knew him yet, I decided I needed to keep an open mind and try my best not to prejudge. I knew there were always two sides to every story and I had no idea what his was.

Sighing, I squeezed my eyes tightly closed and resolved to not stress myself out thinking about this any more tonight. Filling a glass, I took a long drink of water and, though I suspected further sleep would be elusive, returned to crawl back in beside my snoring husband.

* * *

**Damon**

As I was leaving Alexis' room after tucking her into bed, I heard the front door open and Andie come in. I sighed heavily as I stepped into the hallway. Yet again, Andie had missed out on spending time with our daughter before she fell asleep. I understood how important my wife's job as news anchor in Mystic Falls was to her, but sometimes it seemed to me like she tended to forget she had a much more important role that also needed her attention. I mean, Alexis was definitely a daddy's girl, but I knew better than anyone how much she missed her mother on evenings like these. Don't get me wrong - I loved our father-daughter time, but lately there'd been too many nights where the single parent routine was getting a bit frustrating for us all.

I trotted down the stairs to greet Andie. "Hey."

"Hey." She looked exhausted. Slumping her shoulders, she shrugged her light spring jacket carelessly onto the floor. Her usually perfect honey-blonde curls were disheveled and limp. Her dark eyeliner was smeared and the usually flashing green eyes framed within now just looked drained.

Giving her a quick kiss, I suggested, "If you hurry upstairs, you might be able to still get in a cuddle before she's totally out." I thought the idea of seeing Alexis before she was asleep might brighten my wife's spirits, but apparently I was wrong.

Andie shot me a look. "It's been a long day, Damon. Please don't make me feel guilty on top of it."

With her high heels dangling from her fingers, she began to trudge slowly up the steps.

I contemplated not replying, but in the end I did anyway. "It's not me who's making you feel guilty, you know. I'll warm up some dinner for you."

She didn't answer, but she did turn in the direction of Alexis' bedroom when she got to the top.

When Andie joined me in the kitchen ten minutes later, she was already in her pajamas, though it was only twenty to nine.

"Shitty day?" I asked. My own afternoon hadn't exactly been a fucking day at the spa either, but I was good at burying all my frustrations the moment I walked in my front door and switched into 'Daddy-mode'.

"Yeah. The new director seems to think I should be second anchor and playing off Mason. I've been in this industry three years longer than him – I'm both more experienced and more professional. But he's a man, so they want him front and centre. Fuck that." She sighed and shoveled a bite of warm lasagna into her mouth. After she swallowed, she looked up and held my gaze. "Sorry I missed eating with you guys again."

I shrugged. What could I say, really? We both had jobs that were important to us. We were lucky enough to have a very flexible babysitter who only lived a few houses down the street. Sometimes I had to be out of town on business and if Andie was working late, Alexis would either stay at Andie's parents or the sitter would come here and put her to bed for us. It wasn't an ideal situation by any stretch, but we'd been making it work as best we could.

"No apology necessary. We're getting used to it." Okay, yeah, that came out sounding a little pissy but damn it, it really wasn't fair to Alexis to have to be apart from her mother so much.

"Damon," she sighed. "You know I can't help it. I thought you understood. You know I'd be home with you both every night if I could be."

I just stared at her. Like fuck she would. These were her choices and she was the one missing out on a big chunk of her daughter's life. She wanted way more than just a job at the local television station. Andie had much higher aspirations than anchoring small town nightly news. She craved the big time: NBC or CNN or hell, maybe even Fox News if she was desperate enough. Her career path was more than likely only going to take her further away from us, not bring her closer.

I thought about the times I'd brought up trying for a second child and how Andie had balked at the idea. How she'd put me off with 'now's not a good time, Damon' and 'maybe in a few years, Damon.' If she had her way, we'd be living in New York or Atlanta by then and she'd be working even longer hours. Which meant a second baby wasn't going to be in the cards for her any time soon. If ever.

Part of me wanted to bring these things up to her, shove it in her face that her only child was growing up without her goddamn mother around – a mother who was very much alive, just _choosing_ to not be there - but I didn't. I was fully aware that my own childhood without my mom coloured my opinions of what I wanted Alexis' life to be like, what I thought she deserved. And Andie was frustrated, too. She was tired and if I said that stuff, it would only end in yelling and tears and resentments, which would solve abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

So I just said, "I know, babe." Then I kissed the top of her head before slipping into the living room to turn on the baseball game and turn off my frustrated brain for a while.

* * *

**Elena**

After nearly three weeks I was feeling a lot more confident in myself, and working independently most of the time. I still needed to bug Alaric and Bonnie with occasional questions, but my understanding of how the processes in this Accounting department worked compared to my previous employer's was becoming clearer each day.

I noticed it was almost noon and glanced over at Bonnie. Our eyes met across the aisle as she was swiveling in her chair to look at me. We grinned at each other like we'd been doing this for years instead of only a few weeks and both grabbed our purses from our drawers to go meet Caroline in the cafeteria.

When we walked into the large room, we saw she was already there, sitting with Tyler Lockwood, who was a junior accountant in our department. Tyler was a couple years younger than us, with spiky black hair and a muscular build. He was single and Caroline knew it. Apparently she'd been flirting with him off and on for months now, but he still hadn't asked her out. Since Caroline was very accustomed to getting male attention - she absolutely thrived on it from what I could see - it was driving her crazy that Tyler hadn't made a move yet.

After we grabbed our food, Bonnie and I dropped into the hard metal cafeteria chairs and Caroline started detailing the various frustrations of her morning. I unwrapped my sandwich and began to nibble quietly, as usual doing more listening than talking.

I startled at the sound of the chair beside me scraping the floor as it was pulled back, and saw Bonnie's eyes widen as she saw who was about to sit down next to me. A plastic tray laden with food dropped onto the table and I froze with deer-in-the-headlights surprise when I looked up into a familiar pair of clear blue eyes.

"Mind if I join you guys?" Damon asked as he took a seat.

A wave of heat instantly washed over my body, flooding my cheeks and dampening my palms. I prayed that no one, least of all the man beside me, would notice. Overcome with unfamiliar shyness, I quickly averted my gaze back down to the sandwich in front of me. A tight lump seemed to have formed in my throat.

I could tell Bonnie's smile was fake as she lied, "Not at all."

As I ate, I watched Damon surreptitiously from the corner of my eye. He took a bite of his pizza slice, then, swallowing, turned to me.

"How are you settling in, Elena?" he asked politely.

Damn. I'd been really hoping to not have to maintain my side of a conversation with him. I flashed Bonnie a 'please help me' look, took a breath and looked over at him. "Great, so far. It's great. Everyone seems great." I groaned internally. Had I really just said the word 'great' three times? What happened to intelligent and eloquent Elena? Oh, yeah, right. She was hiding, mortified.

"Glad to hear it."

He gave me an easy smile before switching his focus to Tyler. "Plans this weekend, Ty?"

Wonderful. I was sure I'd made yet another moronic impression. There was no way in hell Damon didn't think Katherine had hired the village idiot now. The last thing I wanted was for him to decide I wasn't smart enough or capable enough. The girls had already told me stories of how he'd ripped into them when they'd communicated anything business-related that wasn't to his liking. If I was going to be working with this man, I wanted him to respect me. I was a damn good accountant and it was important to me that he know I was smart and confident.

I needed to fix this. How could I fix this?

As I picked at my sandwich and listened to everyone's chatter, I heard Tyler ask Caroline if she knew some song by a new band he'd heard recently. I knew who he was talking about, but they weren't really my style – way too aggressive for me. The conversation around me then switched to talk of music and I paid close attention, curious to discover if my tastes overlapped with anyone else's here.

Damon mentioned Radiohead being on some top all-time albums list he'd read and I instantly perked up. I had most of their CD's in my collection and this was a band I was fully capable of discussing.

Taking a deep breath, I offered, "Everyone says 'OK Computer' was their best one, but I prefer 'The Bends' any day."

He turned to me with a grin and this time I forced myself to hold his gaze more confidently, although my insides were still flipping and flopping. "Oh yeah, 'The Bends' is amazing, but I have a real soft spot for 'In Rainbows,'" he told me.

I smiled widely at him. Something we had in common that had nothing to do with work! Score! "Yep, I love that one, too. What other bands do you like?" Before he could reply, I blurted on impulse, "Quick – top five desert island discs?"

His thick brows lifted in surprise. "Desert island discs? You mean which albums would I choose to have with me if I could only have five?"

"Exactly."

His face turned reflective as he thought for a moment. Finally, he replied, "Subject to change at any time, but, "Radiohead's 'In Rainbows', of course. Coldplay's 'Rush of Blood to the Head'. Red Hot Chili Peppers' 'Stadium Arcadium'. Pearl Jam's 'Ten' and Joe Purdy's 'You Can Tell Georgia'."

Hmm. I could agree with the first two, and I'd always had a soft spot for that Pearl Jam, since my parents had loved that CD when I was a kid and played it regularly. Chili Peppers I could take or leave, mostly leave if I was being honest. And I had no idea who that last guy was.

"Who's Joe…sorry? What was his name again? I don't know him," I admitted. "Good choices with the rest."

"Joe Purdy. He's an American singer-songwriter. Kind of soulful folk-rocky. His lyrics really get to me. You should download 'Troubadour" and give it a listen, then tell me what you think."

I was flattered. Here I was, a near-complete stranger, and he wanted to know what I thought about some singer? Huh.

"So, what about you?" he asked.

What about me, what? Oh, right. My own desert island discs. How was I going to come up with five good ones off the top of my head?

"I'm gonna preface mine with subject to change without notice, too, cause I fluctuate all the time." My guts felt like they were twisting even tighter as he shared a knowing grin with me. "Okay, let's see. The Beatles' 'Abbey Road'…"

"Excellent," Damon murmured, nodding approvingly at my first selection.

"The Verve's 'Urban Hymns'…"

"Is that the one with 'Bittersweet Symphony' on it?" he interrupted.

"Yep, although that's the song I tend to skip. Anyway, um, The Strokes' 'Is This It?'"

"Don't know them."

"Really? How could you not know The Strokes?" I asked incredulously. I thought _everyone_ had at least heard of them by now.

"That's three. Two more," he prodded, ignoring my outburst.

"Stop interrupting me, then," I told him with a smile. "Okay, last two. David Bowie's 'Hunky Dory' and Arcade Fire's 'The Suburbs.' But I could easily do ten or even twenty, if I'm being honest. Picking just five is very subjective to my mood."

"Wow. I'm impressed, New Girl. You seem to know your stuff."

I just nodded. Music was a huge passion of mine, but I'll admit I could be a bit of a snob about it.

He took his last bite and glanced at his watch. "I gotta run, but it was great chatting music with you. I think I'll be playing 'The Bends' in the car on the way to my next appointment." He flashed me that dazzling smile of his that made my heart do little somersaults in my chest and stood up to go.

As I watched Damon walk out of the cafeteria, I tried to remember that musician he'd mentioned. Joe…something. I frowned. I had hoped to give that guy a listen so I'd have an opinion if the topic came up with him again, but I was blanking completely on the last name.

"Wow, Elena. You just had an entire conversation with Damon Salvatore that was polite and friendly. Wonders will never cease," Caroline observed. "But just wait. You're still new. You haven't had the pleasure of meeting Damon The Dick yet."

I turned to her and shrugged. "He seems okay so far."

"So did Voldemort at first, I bet."

"Caroline!" Bonnie admonished in a low voice, eyes wide. "That's not really fair. Damon's just a self-important ass. The world is filled with them."

"Fine! Sorry. I've just had too many bad experiences with him." She turned to me. "Damon is _not_ Voldemort." Lowering her voice, I heard her mutter, "At least, not yet."

* * *

**AN** _Thank you SO much to all of you that have left me reviews. You really make me a happy writer and keep me inspired! Extra thanks to morvamp for proofreading and to sauriemilia, delena123 and Alaina for their advice._

_Please leave me a review in the box below and let me know what you think of this chapter. Each and every review just makes me day. Thank you SO much in advance!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

**Elena**

Pushing a stray lock of hair off my face with dusty fingers, I grabbed another thick file from the stack beside me on the floor. The name printed vertically down the tab read 'Lynchburg Cable', so I looked for a gap near the end of the long row of L's where it would fit. I'd done a quote for this company just the other day with Alaric and knew it was one of Stefan's clients.

Our administrative assistant had left us a few days ago for a new role in the Creative department, and the rest of us in Accounting had been trying to fill in her duties until someone new could be hired. I was taking my turn in the file room, sitting cross-legged on the carpet filing case folders on one of the lower shelves in the back, when I heard the door to the outer room open.

Katherine's voice came from right around the wall behind me. "Something's going on with you, Stefan. Something's off – I can tell. You weren't yourself on the phone last night." Her tone lowered. "You were high, weren't you? Tell me you weren't high." I could hear her uncharacteristic concern and I froze, praying she wouldn't look around the wall of files that I was sitting behind. My mind reeled in shock. Stefan, high? Really? What the hell?

"Is _that_ why you dragged me back here? To convince me to confide in you? Never gonna happen, Katherine. Even if I did have something to admit to. Which I don't." Stefan's irritation was palpable.

"You can talk to me. We used to tell each other everything."

"Yeah, well. That was a long time ago. Back when I foolishly used to trust you."

"You can still trust me."

"No, I really can't."

"Why not? Why do you still blame me for everything?"

"I forgave you once and look where it got me! You made a fool of me. You lied to me the whole time we were together!"

A sigh. "I'm getting really tired of having to defending myself to you. As I've told you over and over – I didn't. Not after…not since before we were married. I kept my vow to you; I was faithful. Nothing happened between Damon and me again. I know you don't believe me, but it's the truth."

"Save it, Katherine. You're both so full of shit you wouldn't know the truth if it bit you in the ass. Which it has. And I'm sure it will again and again. Don't think you can help me. Don't think you can be my friend. It's never gonna happen." Footsteps.

Her voice took on a note of quiet desperation. "Talk to me, Stefan. Who else have you got? Are you gonna ask Caroline for help? I don't think so. No matter what you believe, I still care about you."

"Go to hell."

The outer door slammed as he went back into the office area. I'd been sitting completely still since the moment I heard Katherine's voice, and right now I hoped she'd follow Stefan out of there as soon as possible. If she realized I was in the back and obviously overheard, there'd be hell to pay.

I heard her inhale sharply, followed by a soft sniffle, and I just knew she was fighting back tears. This Iron Lady still had a weak spot in the form of her ex-husband. In that moment my heart went out to her a little. Could the things she said be true? Was Stefan really on drugs? Was she really innocent of cheating on him with his brother? I knew Stefan and Caroline both certainly believed she did.

The door opened and closed a second time and I released the breath I'd been holding in a rush. I'd just discovered a few more pieces to the complicated history of my boss and the Salvatore brothers – and, although I knew it was totally none of my business, the more I found out, the more I wondered what the truth really was.

* * *

When I finally finished the last of the filing, I stood up with a yawn and stretched my arms high above my head. My muscles were all stiff and achy from sitting on the floor for too long.

I went back to my cubicle to check my e-mail and immediately noticed I had a new message from Damon. The subject line told me it was a response to a quote I'd done for him the day before. I hadn't had to do much work for any of his accounts so far, but Alaric was showing me quotes for pricing of advertising add-ons clients sometimes asked to see after their campaigns were already set up. Ric had given me this one to do on my own and I'd worked out the cost for ConnectAssure's request carefully, triple checking my calculations and the wording of my accompanying e-mail, before sending it off to Rose.

Quickly I opened his message, both excited and nervous to see what he had to say. As I read it my face fell. A wave of irritation coursed through me as I read it through again. Caroline and Bonnie had both warned me about the tone of his e-mails, and now it seemed I had a snarky message of my very own. It was cold and completely dismissive of what I had provided. He demanded a lower price. He did not say please. And he'd used _that phrase_, the phrase that all accountants despise having thrown at them more than any other: "sharpen your pencil."

As in, "why don't you sharpen your pencil and get some lower figures for me?" As in, 'obviously you didn't give as competitive a quote the first time around as you could have, so do it again and do it better.'

Rising anger drowned out all rational thought as I read his message over a third time. Did I mention how much I hate that phrase? I really, really hate that phrase.

I still had the case file on the corner of my desk, so I grabbed it and went over my calculations a few times more. I found no errors. My quote was accurate and there was no room that I could see for any further discounting.

Hitting 'Reply', my fingers flew over my keyboard as I typed out a response. I moved the mouse over 'Send' and lingered there a moment with my finger resting on the button. Luckily I managed to retain enough presence of mind to not click the damn thing. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, took a deep breath, then re-read my reply. While not unprofessional, it had definite undertones of bitchy. As did his original message, but if I sent this answer back, from what I'd been told about Damon it would probably start a heated battle of wills over a minor issue. So I leaned back in my chair, clicked the little 'X' in the upper right-hand corner of the open e-mail, and stopped myself from giving as good as I got.

Instead I decided it would be a good idea to forward it to Alaric, and I took the file into his office to see what his advice was. He was used to dealing with Damon, and, in fact, they seemed to have a pretty easy working relationship. Ric had Damon's respect; the rest of my co-workers obviously did not. And I was bound and determined that I would earn it, too.

Alaric was sympathetic to my annoyance – I'm sure you're not shocked to learn that he hated that particular expression as well. He understood why my back got up at Damon's curt words and together we re-did the calculations, found a way to provide a slightly improved figure and formulated a firm, but polite, reply.

I returned to my desk still feeling edgy, but more in control of my temper. There was just something about Damon's e-mail - like he figured I was exactly the same as any of the other employees that he sparred with here - that had really gotten under my skin. It was more than just that stupid phrase. It was his assumption that I was just like them.

By the end of the day, I wasn't really feeling much better about it. He hadn't replied a second time, and that was undoubtedly for the best, but no matter what other cases I worked on, my mind kept slipping back to his e-mail.

Glancing at the clock in the bottom corner of my monitor for what had to be the forty-third time that afternoon, I was relieved to notice that I could start packing up to leave in a few minutes. I really just wanted the day to be over so that I could go home and distract myself from focusing on such a stupid, minor thing. It totally didn't deserve the attention I was giving it, and I knew it.

I was just about to reach for my purse when I heard a light knock on the metal edge of the padded half-wall behind me. I swiveled in my chair and unexpectedly found myself face to face with the very person who'd been inadvertently driving me to distraction all afternoon - Damon. My first thought was that he'd come to argue with me some more over the numbers, and I braced myself mentally for it. Instead, he reached inside his jacket, pulled out a CD and put it down in front of me on my blotter.

"Nearly forgot to give this to you before I left," he said, smiling. The light fresh scent of his aftershave reached out and wrapped me in its embrace, immobilizing me.

Heat flared across my face. My brows pulled tightly together and I glanced at the disk, then back up at him. "What?" That one confused word was all I could muster.

"You said you hadn't heard of him. Let me know what you think."

I just stared at him, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. He had the cutest expression on his face as he held my perplexed gaze. Wait, wasn't I ticked off at him just a few moments ago? How could he flip my emotions around so thoroughly just by smiling at me? I couldn't decide if I thought this was a good or bad thing.

I think maybe I nodded, although I'm really not sure.

"Have a good weekend, Elena," he said, as he turned and walked away.

"Thanks. You, too," I mumbled.

I leaned forward in my chair and stared at his back (and, if I'm being honest, his ass) until he rounded the corner at the end of our aisle. Then I picked up the CD he'd dropped on my desk. It was a burned disk and scrawled across the shiny metallic surface in black Sharpie were the words "Joe Purdy / You Can Tell Georgia."

Damon Salvatore had been thinking enough about our conversation from four days ago that he took the time to make me a CD? And he wanted my opinion on it? I shook my head in disbelief.

Slipping the disc into my purse, I said my goodbyes and made a beeline for my car, excited to give this Joe Purdy a listen on my drive home. It gave me an excellent excuse to either see Damon in person next week or have a non work-related e-mail conversation with him – both thoughts that had those damn butterflies whirring around in my belly once again.

* * *

**Damon**

I got into my overheated car smiling as I leaned over to flick on the A/C. Elena's face when I'd dropped that CD on her desk had been priceless. Something about the progression of her expressions - at first wary, then confused, then cautiously pleased – it was like no one had ever done something as simple as give her music.

And that look on her face just before I walked away? That was all because of me. Damned if I wasn't already trying to come up with new ways to evoke that smile of hers again.

_Jesus. What the hell is wrong with me?_ I gave my head a shake to clear out those ideas_. Get a fucking grip on yourself, Salvatore. Married. Married. Married._

I couldn't help but notice Stefan's unmistakable red Porsche pull out of the parking lot a couple of cars ahead of me. He'd been acting distracted and shady when I'd popped into his office earlier, which triggered my spidey-senses.

I wasn't an idiot. I knew he was using again, even if he denied it, which he'd been doing for the past month or so. My brother had been a pretty good football player in both high school and college. He'd continued playing in a pick-up league here in town every autumn after graduating. Five years ago, around the time his marriage began to fall apart, he fucked up his knee during a game. Tore a cartilage. Must've hurt like a bitch, although frankly I'm sure being married to one did, too. He had surgery. They gave him painkillers. He got hooked. Not an uncommon story, right? Except this is Stefan we're talking about. Mr. Addictive Personality.

He'd fallen off the wagon at least twice since "quitting" that first time. He'd promised me the morning of my wedding day, standing there looking all dapper in his black suit, clutching Andie's wedding ring in his fist and swearing to me, "No more pills, Damon. I'm done with that shit." And I'd been so full of happiness that day, so grateful that he was my best man, that we were acting like real brothers for the first time in ages, that I foolishly believed him.

Except Stefan's promises never amount to shit. He'd finally dropped the idiocy of accusing me of sleeping with his wife, thank fuck, but without her in his life he was untethered. He drifted aimlessly and it was only a matter of time before he started getting high again. I figured him out, dealt with him and things went back to normal for a while. Until they weren't again and we had to start this whole miserable process over. Every time was slightly different from the last, but every time I managed to drag him back from the edge before all hell broke loose. No one else found out, he never got arrested and he never fucked up his career. Thanks to me.

I knew all the signs by now and I knew how to handle him. He was a remarkable good actor when he needed to be – he had everyone else that knew him fooled - but he couldn't fool me.

As each of the cars between us turned off at Dundas Street, I drew closer. Maybe he noticed me behind him, I don't know, but he suddenly put pedal to the metal and his little Roadster took off. Shady, shady.

_What the fuck are you up to, little brother?_ I thought. I made a spur of the moment decision to follow him.

Hitting the gas, I raced forward just in time to catch sight of him making a left on Elm. Was the dumbass just going home? If so, why speed away from me like that? Moron.

Sighing, I slowed down and drove normally to his place. It wasn't worth risking a speeding ticket over. After the DUI I'd gotten smacked down with six years ago, I'd gone out of my way to steer clear of more traffic infractions of any sort. My brain-dead brother should've been avoiding drawing police attention to himself too, but I had an inkling that right now that was the furthest thing from his mind.

I pulled in beside him onto the driveway of his white ranch-style bungalow just as he was getting out of his car. His look of surprise at seeing my car drive up made me wonder if perhaps he hadn't noticed me behind him earlier after all.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Stefan greeted me sullenly. He obviously wasn't looking for any brotherly bonding time. I eyed the sweat stains soaking the armpits of his gray button-up. Lovely.

"Checking up on you," I replied. "What? You thought this was a social call?"

He turned around and unlocked the front door without answering. Rolling my eyes, I followed him inside. The place was a mess: clothes strewn everywhere, dirty mugs crowding the coffee table and I even spotted an overflowing ashtray perched precariously on a throw pillow. My brother, who claimed to be a non-smoker, only ever bought cigarettes when he was stoned.

"You're high, aren't you?" I asked bluntly. Not like I wasn't fully aware of the answer already.

He fidgeted and wouldn't look at me. "Go home, Damon. I neither want nor need your company."

Grabbing him by both shoulders, I pulled him toward me and forced him to look me in the eyes. His skin was flushed and sure enough, he had the telltale pinpoint pupils.

"You are a goddamned idiot, you know that, Stefan? The fuck were you thinking? You took pills at work? And then drove home? Are you _trying_ to get caught?"

He pulled away from me. "Leave me alone. I told you – I don't need your help. I'm fine. There's no problem." Denial had become second nature to him.

His eyes were shifting around the room wildly but they refused to land on me. He turned toward the kitchen and I took hold of his shoulders again and slammed him against the nearest wall, rattling the candleholders and books on the shelf nearby.

"Don't. Be. A Fucking. Dumbass. You could lose your license, or your job, or even your fucking life!" I shook him once to emphasize my point. "I know you've fallen off the wagon again, Stef. Whether you're admitting it or not."

He braced his palms against my chest and shoved me back a few feet. "Get the fuck off me, Damon. You're starting to sound just like Katherine. The two of you talk about me today? Is that what happened? Is that why you're here?" He had that frantic, wild-eyed look about him again and his breathing was growing ragged.

I sighed and lowered my voice. "No. I haven't talked to Katherine. Why the hell would I talk to Katherine about you? This is between us."

Grabbing his arm, I dragged him into the kitchen and pushed him into a barstool at the counter. The smell of dirty dishes moldering in the sink nearly turned my stomach. This guy needed someone to go all Dr Phil on his ass in more ways than one, or he'd soon have vermin infesting the place - if there weren't already. I shuddered internally at the thought.

He started to protest, but I interrupted him. "Sit down and shut up, brother. I'm going to make some coffee and you're going to drink it. Then you're going to listen to me. You never fucking listen to me and I really think it's high time you started.

"You're going to give me all your pills. All of them. I will search this entire goddamn house if I think you're still hiding anything."

Stefan glared at me. "They're all gone. I took the last two this afternoon."

"Bullshit!" I spat. "What do you think? I just met you yesterday? I know you, Stef. You've got them stashed away in various little hidey-holes all around here and you're going to get them for me. Every last pill. Or I'll rip this place apart until I find them all. Your choice."

He looked like he was about ready to commit fratricide. Stefan might have been physically larger than me, but I was older and faster. He was also stoned at the moment, so even if he tried something I was pretty confident I could take him.

Eventually he sighed. "Fine."

"Fine, what, Stefan?"

Gritting his teeth, he stared daggers at me. "Fine, I'll give you all the pills."

And he did. I forced him to gulp down three cups of coffee in rapid succession which, incidentally, made him have to pee like a racehorse - also helpful – and then I followed him around the house while he systematically dug out small blister packs of pale yellow tablets from behind, under and on top of various things.

The master bathroom was our last stop. He opened the mirrored cupboard above the sink and I looked at him incredulously.

"_Really_?"

He glanced back at me with a quizzical expression. "What?"

"The fucking medicine cabinet, brother? You are a bigger dumbass than I originally thought."

And the dumbass had the gall to actually grin and shrug at me before pulling out a half-empty bottle and tossing it into my waiting hands. My jacket pockets were nearly full at this point. I could have made a killing ridding myself of them to the pimps and pushers in some of the skeevy dives I knew of in Richmond, had I been so inclined. How the fuck had he gotten all these? Had he been secreting this particular stash away for years without my knowing? Maybe I was the one who'd been an idiot. I obviously needed to start watching Stefan like a hawk from now on. No one else would, if I didn't.

"That all?" I asked.

"That's all." He walked into his bedroom and stretched out on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Throwing an arm over his eyes, he yawned widely.

"Get the fuck out of my house, Damon."

"You're welcome," I replied.

And I left.

* * *

**A/N ** _So that chapter was fun to write. Hope you enjoyed! _

___Thank you SO much to those of you who have been generous enough to review. Special huge thanks to morvamp for beta-ing and to sauriemilia and delena123 for their advice._

_Please let me know by writing something in the Review box below if at all possible. Hope you have patience with the slow burn and will stick with me!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

**Elena**

A corporate e-mail appeared in my in-basket one hot July morning announcing the annual company golf tournament and barbeque. In two weeks the office would be closing early and all staff were invited to participate in a round-robin golf tournament, with dinner and drinks to follow in the clubhouse afterward. A sign-up sheet would be posted on the break-room door for twosome requests.

"Elena?" I turned as Bonnie called my name from across the aisle. "Did you see the message about the tournament?"

"Just read it," I replied.

"You going to go?"

"Are you?" I asked, wondering if I had the option of skipping out.

"Nope. I'm taking a course right after work on Thursdays all summer. Besides, I don't golf."

"Me, neither," I confessed. "I don't know. I'll think about it."

"You should go." She smiled at me. "You're new, and it'd be a great way for you to socialize outside of work with people here. Let them get to know you."

Damon's smiling face flashed involuntarily into my mind, as it so often did lately. "That's true. They can all mock the new girl when she makes a fool of herself," I laughed.

"Ask Caroline at lunch. Maybe she'll partner with you. You guys would totally have fun."

"So it wouldn't matter that I have no clue how to play?"

"Does Matt golf?" I shook my head. "Well, you could always take a lesson."

She was right; I should probably make the effort to attend the first corporate function since I'd started. But I knew nothing about golf and really didn't want to look like an idiot in front of my new co-workers. My parents used to play once in awhile, back when I was a teenager. I thought my dad still occasionally did. Maybe I'd ask him if he could show me how to hit the ball properly.

At lunch I was pleasantly surprised when Damon joined us again and sat down across from me. I couldn't help but flush and return his smile when our eyes connected. We hadn't had any interactions since the afternoon he'd dropped off that Joe Purdy disc to me. It had been in rotation in my car for the past week or so, but I was still trying to decide whether I really liked it or not. It was definitely folkier than I would normally go for. Since I'd had yet to form a definite opinion, I hadn't e-mailed Damon about it, figuring we'd discuss it in person at some point. And now here he was, sitting right in front of me. I kind of hoped he wouldn't bring it up, selfishly wanting to save that conversation for when there weren't nosy ears tuning in.

The talk around me soon turned to the upcoming golf tournament and I listened with interest to stories about the various goings-on from previous years. Sounds like having a few beers on the course was a fairly common occurrence and nobody really took their scores too seriously. Good. If I was going to play, whoever got stuck golfing with me would need to keep their expectations painfully low.

"Hey, do you have a partner yet?" I asked Caroline, when I could get a word in edgewise.

She smiled widely. "Tyler and I are teaming up this year - aren't we, Ty?"

Tyler looked smug. "Yep. Double-Trouble on the green. We're gonna kick ass!"

Damn. There went that idea.

"Are you looking for a partner, Elena?" Damon asked me quietly.

I'd assumed he was already teamed up with one of his co-workers he'd known for years. Maybe he was about to suggest someone he knew who still needed a second? "Yes. But I don't know how to play."

"I'll pair up with you. If you want me," he offered.

'_If you want me.' _His words blared like a siren through my head.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. I was instantly both excited and terrified of the idea. My response flew out of my mouth before I really even thought about what I was agreeing to. "That would be great! As long as you don't mind me dragging you down."

He just laughed and made a joke about Tyler's golf skills, or lack of them. His casual offer wasn't mentioned again, nor did any talk of music come up. By the time I got back to my desk I wasn't sure if his invitation had actually happened or not.

The next morning when I got into work, there was an e-mail waiting for me from Damon. The subject line just read 'Golf.' He asked if I was serious about partnering with him for the tournament.

I tried to be light in my reply.

_Sure, but remember I have no clue how to play. Want to teach me?_

He responded about thirty seconds later.

_Tomorrow after work?_

Whoa. Just me and Damon? Alone? I couldn't help but picture myself standing in front of him on the grass, his arms wrapping around me from behind, guiding my hands into the correct position on the golf club, teaching me how to properly hold it, how to swing just right. I imagined the feel of his hard chest brushing lightly against my back as he showed me how to move my arms. _Oh God._

I gulped. This was probably a terrible idea. I couldn't tell anyone here if we did – that would likely be a fast way to get rumours started and neither of us needed that. So, it would have to be a secret meet-up. There was no way that could be good. Could it?

No, it couldn't. Not with the crazy way he made me feel. Hanging out just the two of us was liable to be a bad, bad plan.

But if I was going to golf in the company tournament, I did need to at least have a vague idea how to play. And it _would_ give us a chance to get to know each other a bit better, which could only be helpful for our working relationship. I would be less likely to be influenced by what others said once I'd formed an opinion about him myself – which I could only do if I learned more about him. When I saw first-hand that he really was the arrogant asshole everyone else thought he was, well then this stupid little crush would go away all on its own. Which it _really_ needed to. So, therefore this would be a perfect opportunity to do just that and I should take advantage of it. Right?

I rationalized and justified to myself that Damon giving me golf lessons tomorrow was a completely innocent – no, actually a _fabulous_ - idea.

My heart was thumping rapidly in my chest. Before I could change my mind again, I typed my answer and hit the Send button.

_Sounds good. See you then._

* * *

The next morning I felt like a teenager again, getting ready for my first big date with the hottest guy at school. I'd tossed and turned most of the night, unable to sleep, playing over in my mind dozens of different conversations I might have with Damon while on the driving range.

I debated ever-so-briefly not telling Matt about our after-work plans, but realized there was really no reason not to. His reaction to hearing that a male co-worker was going to be giving me golfing lessons in order to prepare me for a company tournament was relaxed indifference. Matt wasn't the jealous type, another one of the things I liked about him. He even told me he'd borrow his sister's clubs for me to use the day of the event. So, there was no problem there. The problem, or potential problem, all lay with me.

Matt had left early to drive his mother to an appointment and I took extra long straightening my hair and carefully applying my make-up. I chose a pair of white capris to show off my tanned legs and a dark red capped-sleeve top with a scoop neck. My nerves were already kicking in and I hadn't even gotten to the office yet. How jacked-up would I be mentally by the time four o'clock rolled around?

Those eight hours seemed to stretch on endlessly. I had no idea if I was supposed to meet Damon in his office and walk out with him, or in the parking lot and follow him to wherever we were going. Every once and a while I'd open a new e-mail intending to message him and ask, but then I'd close it again. I didn't want to seem like I was pestering.

Around quarter to four, just when I felt like my anxiety couldn't ratchet up much higher, a message from him arrived.

_We still on? Do you know where Lynchburg Golf Club is?_

I sighed with relief and quickly replied.

_Yes. And no. _

His answer was just as fast.

_Pop by my office on your way out. You can follow me over._

An insuppressible smile erupted across my face. Yes! We were still doing this.

My heart pounded out a dancehall beat in my chest as I shut down my computer for the day, said my goodbyes to my co-workers and began walking toward Damon's office.

When I got there, I peeked inside and noticed he was on the phone. He looked over and flashed me a crooked grin as he held up one finger in the universal signal for 'hold on a moment.' Today he was wearing a black golf shirt instead of a button-up. As it always did, my throat tightened and butterflies began doing pirouettes in my stomach. No matter how much my brain insisted it not, my body continually reacted like this every time I laid eyes on this man.

When he hung up, he greeted me with a simple "Hey."

"Hey," I replied with a tight-lipped smile, trying to sound not the least bit nervous and pretty sure I was failing.

I walked with him out the back exit and into the employee parking lot. To my surprise, he went over to a sky blue vintage Camaro – not at all the kind of car I was expecting a salesman would drive. I'd just assumed it would be an Acura or an Audi or a Lincoln or something like that, probably in basic black. I don't even know why I'd guessed that - maybe because at least a quarter of the cars in this lot were black? Maybe because Damon seemed to wear almost exclusively black? Seeing him standing beside that sleek car took my breath away, though. The vibrant blue brought out the very depths of colour in his twinkling eyes.

He'd obviously noticed me raise an eyebrow at his vehicle. "Yeah, I know, not very typical. But it stands out. It's important to stand out with clients - make a unique first impression. And it's a conversation starter, that's for sure."

I couldn't think of a good response to that, so I just nodded. It was inconceivable to me that Damon wouldn't stand out glaringly to anyone who ever laid eyes on him.

"Which one's yours?" he asked me.

Pointing out a dark blue Honda Accord, I confirmed I'd follow him and slid behind the wheel. My palms were slick against the hard plastic as I drove. It was a hot day, but I was pretty sure the temperature had nothing to do with it. I hoped desperately that my extra strength antiperspirant would hold out at least until I was on my way home later. Sweat stains on my clothing were definitely not part of the impression I wanted to make this afternoon.

I followed his car to the edge of town and along a rural two-lane paved highway I'd never been down before. Undulating fields of tall wheat bracketed the road, and here and there wooden barns with tall silos were interspersed like red islands among seas of pale green.

We turned off onto a narrow street that had a few large homes lining it and dead-ended in the gravel parking lot of a golf course. If I hadn't seen the sign for Lynchburg Golf Club out on the main road, there's no way I'd ever have known that this was back here. The imposing white façade of the clubhouse rose up behind a manicured hedge and I pulled to a stop in front of it. There were only a few other cars here besides ours.

Damon appeared at my door, pulling it open it for me even before I'd unbuckled my seatbelt.

"Thanks," I smiled, swinging my feet out onto the ground. "Will I need to rent clubs?"

He returned my grin and reached for my hand to help me out. "Nope, we can both use mine for today."

Swinging his golf bag over one shoulder, he walked around the large building with me trailing closely behind.

I quietly watched from the back of the pro shop as he procured a basket of balls for us, apparently free of charge because he was a member there, then together we walked out to the putting green. My nerves were already jacked up to an eleven, and every time he glanced at me and shot me that knee-weakening smile of his, they shot up another notch.

Damon demonstrated how to hit a golf ball properly (and I won't lie and tell you I didn't appreciate the view standing behind him watching while he swung). It wasn't like in the movies or the images from my over-active imagination; he didn't once stand at my back and wrap his arms around me to show me how to hold the club. He was a perfect gentleman and didn't even touch me. And thank God for that.

He taught. We practiced. I paid attention and figured out some stuff. And we talked. And talked. And talked.

Damon wasn't an arrogant self-centered ass at all – far from it. He was genuinely curious about me. He wanted to know about my former job at Bellmore, what I'd loved about it, what I hadn't and why I'd left, about my family, my life, and growing up in Mystic Falls.

He talked about his clients, his daughter, his wife. When I told him I'd gone to high school with Andie, he was at first surprised, then a bit disappointed when I didn't have any embarrassing stories about her to relay. My nerves faded away more and more with every passing moment.

When it somehow came up that this past winter he'd gotten his first tattoo, and I insisted on seeing it, he removed one shoe and tugged down the edge of his sock to reveal a small black fish swimming along the side of his foot.

"Alexis was born in February," he explained. "Word of advice: don't ever get a tattoo on your foot. Too many small bones too close to the surface. Hurts like a bitch." We both laughed and my anxiety reduced even further.

Walking back to our cars after, I realized I still had yet to tell him what I thought about the Joe Purdy CD he'd given me the week before.

As Damon returned his golf clubs to his trunk, I blurted, "I like 'Worn Out Shoes.'"

He turned to me wide-eyed as he closed the lid down, then broke out into a huge smile. "Yeah? It's my second favourite track on that album."

"'There's a hole in the roof for the stars to fall in. I gather them up for you,'" I quoted. "It's beautiful. But your favourite is 'Can't Get It Right Today', isn't it?"

His head tilted to one side. A slight breeze wafted through his dark brown hair and I felt the strangest urge to smooth down the flyaway strands. "Yes, it is," he replied slowly. "How did you know that?"

I shrugged. "I guessed." But that wasn't totally true. I'd just had a feeling. There was something about the words to that song. It was so sad – just haunting and melancholy. It was the track that spoke to me the most, too. The best writing in the world is the kind that moves you and makes you ache deep inside.

"You're like no one I've ever met, Elena," he declared, still looking at me with a slightly bewildered expression.

I didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met either, but that was a conversation I really didn't think it would be smart for us to get into.

"Thank you for the lesson," I said instead. "Hopefully I'll remember what you just showed me when we have to do this for real next week."

"Don't worry, you'll do fine. I can't wait." Then he flashed me another big grin, got into his car and I followed him as far as the highway that led back to Mystic Falls.

I'm sure you can guess what I listened to the whole drive home.

* * *

After I pulled into my driveway, I sat in the car for a minute waiting for the current song to finish. I was giddy. There's no other word to describe how I felt. I sat there thinking over all the things Damon and I had talked about, thinking about his hair, his eyes, the tone of his voice, the shape of that small fish on his foot. I knew I shouldn't be indulging myself; knew it wasn't healthy to dwell on a man who was completely off-limits, but I just couldn't seem to help it.

With a sigh, I shut off the engine and went into the house.

Matt wasn't home, so I sent him a text to let him know I was back. He walked in the door not five minutes later with take-out from Pizza Palace. My knight in shining armour, saving his damsel from having to slave over a hot stove on this humid summer evening!

He also had a set of golf clubs over his other arm. "Borrowed these for you from Vickie," he told me, lowering the bulky bag to the floor in the front hallway. "She hardly ever uses them anyway."

"Thanks, Matt. You're the best." I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and liberated the pizza box from his hand to take into the kitchen.

"So, how was it?" he asked as he followed me and sat down at our small table.

"The golf lessons?"

"Yeah. You like it? Do I need to learn?"

I laughed. "It's okay. I didn't suck as bad as I thought I would. But I can't see myself taking this up as a regular activity."

"Okay." He reached for a gooey slice. "Who gave you lessons again?"

I turned away from him to grab a plate from the cupboard for my own pizza. As nonchalantly as possible, I replied, "Damon. He's an account manager who sits with us at lunch sometimes." I was on the verge of telling Matt a bunch of other stuff about Damon, but stopped myself. It probably wasn't a great idea to come across as too interested in him.

It turned out I needn't have worried about sparking any suspicion in my husband. He started telling me about his day with his mother and his sister and our conversation never did return to golf or BWS or Damon that night.

As we were getting ready for bed later, he offhandedly remarked, "My mom asked me again how much longer we're going to make her wait for grandbabies."

I froze at the mirror where I had been slathering night cream on my face and caught his eyes in the reflection. "How did you respond?"

"The same way I always do, 'Lena. I told her we'd let her know as soon as we figured it out. But I doubt she's going to drop that topic any time soon."

I sighed. "I know, Matty. Sorry you keep getting pressured about it."

"I get why she asks. It's not like Vickie's going have a baby anytime in the foreseeable future." His lips twitched with a suppressed smile and I knew he was picturing his wild-child sister trying to be take care of an infant. "Don't worry about it. Mom's just impatient for us to start a family. Give her a little one to spoil, you know?"

"I know. But I just started a new job. It wouldn't be right for me to turn up to work pregnant right after they hire me. Not in the first year, for sure. You get that, don't you?" I turned to look at him.

"Yeah, I get it. I know you're not thinking about kids yet. But…Elena? I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't ready either." He slid off the bed and walked over to me, pulling me against him and holding me close.

"I'm ready whenever you are."

The problem was, I couldn't even imagine starting a family with Matt right now. And I had no idea when or if I'd ever be ready.

* * *

**A/N** _Hope you didn't miss Damon's pov too much in this chapter. He'll be back in Ch 6, I promise!_ _Huge thank you to those of you that have left me reviews and/or favourited!_ _ Extra thanks to morvamp for her mad beta skills and to sauriemilia and delena123 for sharing their thoughts with me. Please leave me a review in the little box below if you can - it would mean so much to me, especially this week, which has kinda really sucked. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

**Damon**

My mind was stuck on Elena Gilbert as I drove home and walked over to the sitter's to pick up Alexis. Spending time with her this afternoon had been like a breath of fresh air to the stressful, often toxic, 'normal' that my life had evolved into these days. She didn't look at me with disdain or fear or annoyance or – worst of all – pity. She was interested in my opinions and advice and genuinely seemed to want to get to know me. Even though I knew full well that certain other small-minded gossips in the office had likely already filled her head with stories of what a massive douchebag I was – and hey, I'm not denying the truth behind some of that – she wouldn't have agreed to partner with me, or let me teach her to golf today, if she believed what she'd undoubtedly heard. Elena had obviously decided to make up her own mind. Which already put her head and shoulders above most of her co-workers in my eyes. Absurdly, I found myself hoping that as she got to know me, I wouldn't disappoint her.

When I walked in the neighbour's front door, the first thing I heard was Alexis' excited squeal of "Daddy!" Seconds later a bundle of energetic three-and-a-half year old flew into my waiting arms. I swung her in a circle and planted a big kiss on her forehead. Today was already a far better day than I'd had in weeks. More like months. Maybe even longer.

Andie was working late again, so Alexis and I had another Daddy-Daughter night. I made spaghetti and she made a mess. She was literally the only person on the planet whose messes didn't make me antsy. Not to say that I didn't clean them up as fast as she made them, but they didn't give me anxiety. And she was just so damn cute with spaghetti sauce all over her face, smiling at me proudly while she finger-painted a new Picasso across the table-top.

Bath time came next, followed soon after by my favourite part of the night - story time. As I read 'Fox In Socks' to her, she interrupted my garbled tongue twisters with peals of high-pitched giggles. By the time the book was finished, we were both laughing so hard I was nearly in tears. Throughout our fun I tried to keep one ear cocked in case I heard Andie come in before it was time for lights out. Of course, she didn't. It was yet another night of tucking our daughter in and kissing her goodnight and assuring her how much I loved her and her mom loved her. Alexis didn't even ask me tonight where Mommy was. It saddened me beyond words that our child was getting used to her mother not being there. And it made me even more frustrated at my wife's choice of priorities.

Andie texted me saying she was stuck in a late meeting with her producers and didn't know what time she'd be home. I replied, _Whatever_.

I was well aware that my curt message would make her feel bad, but this time I really didn't give a fuck.

I did some work in my office for a while, but my ability to concentrate was marred by thoughts of Andie and Alexis, of Stefan, and, in a few moments of weakness, Elena.

As I was getting ready for bed, I heard the front door open. A few minutes later Andie came into our bedroom.

"Don't start," she begged me, as she dropped her purse on her dresser and walked into the ensuite bathroom. "I know you're mad that I didn't get home earlier, but please - I just can't argue with you tonight."

I sighed and felt my annoyance with her start to slip away at the sound of the frustration in her voice. It was obvious neither one of us was very happy with the current status quo. "Another day from hell?" I asked her gently when she came back into the room.

She didn't answer right away, turning away from me to unzip and tug down her blue pencil skit and stockings. Normally watching Andie get undressed was a highlight of my day; a sexy tease of what I could look forward to after her clothes hit the floor. Tonight I just waited for her to change into her pink silk pajamas and get around to telling me what was stressing her out this time.

I pulled back the covers on her side for her, and she slipped into bed and rolled over to face me. "You won't believe what I found out today, Damon."

"Tell me."

"My dad…" Her voice caught.

_Oh shit_. I could tell this wasn't gonna be good.

She exhaled the words out in a rush. "My dad's been cheating on my mother."

_What the fuck?_ I was so shocked I didn't even know what to say, so I just stared at her. It's entirely possible that my mouth might have even fallen open in surprise.

Finally I found my voice. "You're kidding me. Does your mom know? How did you find out?"

"She told me, over lunch today. It's apparently been going on for years."

"For _years_?" I repeated incredulously. "Why hasn't she left him already? Tell her we have a spare bedroom and plenty of space here."

"I did. She doesn't want to leave him."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"I don't know. She's known about the affairs for a long time now. And she decided to stay." Andie rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. "I just don't get it, Damon. Why would she choose to stay with a man who disrespects her and humiliates her like that?"

"I don't know, babe."

I thought about it, though. Andie and her brother were both adults. Their parents had a paid-for home and weren't hurting for cash. There were no financial or familial reasons for her mother to feel obligated to remain in an unhappy marriage. Unless…could it be that she wasn't unhappy? Maybe for some unfathomable reason this worked for them both? But I wasn't about to suggest that possibility to Andie. She was too close to the situation to comprehend any reasons why two people might continue to maintain a marriage under those circumstances.

"Damon?" she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I couldn't do it."

"Stick around?" I asked, though I knew exactly what she meant.

"Yeah."

I reached over and squeezed her hand. "I know."

* * *

**Elena**

The wide band of morning sun created a cozy warm patch across the bed. Matt was over at the high school doing some upgrading to the auto shop that he'd planned to finish over the summer, and I was, well, honestly I was still being lazy, after another restless night of patchy sleep. Curled up snugly under my blankets, I was reading a novel and trying not to let my thoughts slip back to that dream I'd had a couple weeks ago about Damon. Nearly all of it was faded from my memory banks now. Except for the kiss. That part I remembered all too clearly and it was stubbornly refusing to stray far from my thoughts right now.

Between the dream and our interactions since, I had plenty to reminisce about and I sure wasn't getting a lot of actual reading done. When I happened to look over at the clock, I saw it was past ten-thirty. Crap! I was supposed to be over at my parents place in twenty minutes. I'd promised my dad I'd help him go through all the boxes in storage in the attic and take home the stuff that I wanted so that he could get rid of what wasn't needed to keep any longer. My mom wasn't really strong enough to help with any heavy lifting and I really didn't want my dad to have to do it all himself. If I didn't show up soon, I knew damn well he'd just start without me.

When I got to my parent's place, I sat in the kitchen and had a coffee with both of them before Dad and I got into organizing mode. My father had been to see his cardiologist this week and had some more tests run. According to the doctor his health seemed to be much better, which was a huge relief to me.

As we chatted, I also happened to casually mention that Matt's mother kept bugging him about when we planned to start a family.

My mom looked horrified. "Elena! You just started a new job. The last thing you should be doing right now is telling them you need to go on maternity leave in nine months! It wouldn't be professional of you _at all_."

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "I have no intention of it, Mom. I'm not ready for that yet. But good to know where you stand."

"Focus on your career first, Elena. Don't make the same mistake I made. You can start a family in a few years, once your position there is more settled." My mother turned away to rinse out our mugs and I sighed. _Right. Don't wreck my career like she did hers by getting pregnant with me. Got it._

My dad and I climbed the steps into the low-ceilinged attic and I plunked myself down onto the rough wooden floorboards to begin going through the closest dust-encrusted box. I'd brought an empty carton to put stuff inside that I wanted to keep and a stack of black plastic garbage bags to sort items into for either a yard sale or the dump.

When I tore open the third box, I gasped in surprise. It was filled to the brim with my old baby things. Small pink dresses, teddy bear patterned blankets, bibs, little socks and the cutest pair of tiny white patent leather mary-janes that I'd ever seen. I held them up to my dad. "Wow, Daddy. Looks at these shoes! Was I ever really that small?"

My dad laughed. "Yes, 'Lena, you were really that small. Leave that box. Your mom wants to give all that to you if you have a daughter someday."

"She does?" I don't know why I was so surprised at that – it made sense, after all. I guess I just couldn't imagine my perfectly coiffed, immaculately dressed mother thinking about holding a baby. She hadn't ever made any comments to me about wanting grandchildren. Maybe she did, I wasn't sure, but if forced to guess I would have thought she wasn't bothered either way, really. My mom had never made any secret of the fact that she hoped I'd be very successful in my job. I was well aware she wanted me to be able to have the career and the life she didn't get to.

"Yep. Here – I'll tuck that one over into the back corner for when we need it some day. Can you write on the side of it what's inside?"

I scrawled 'Elena's baby stuff' across the dusty cardboard in black magic marker and then pushed it in his direction.

I sorted through a few more old cartons, filling garbage bags as I went. Man, it was sticky up here! The air conditioning didn't seem to reach the attic at all. It would be time for a break for both of us soon.

Pushing some strands of loose hair back off my face, I said, "'Daddy?"

"Yes, hon?"

"Matt wants kids," I confessed softly.

He paused and turned to look at me with a concerned expression. "And you don't?"

I sighed. "No, it's not that. It's just…I'm just not sure. I might. But not right now." I scrunched up my face. "He'd make a great dad, I know he would, but…would it make me a horrible person if I said I really can't picture myself starting a family with him?"

"Oh, 'Lena. You're not a horrible person. Have you told Matt you feel that way?"

I shook my head.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm only twenty-nine. I could still change my mind. Right?" I asked him hopefully.

"Right. But could the problem maybe be that you just can't see yourself having a baby with _Matt_?"

My throat grew tight at my father's words. He was always so astute when it came to me. No one got me the way my dad did. No one. Not my mother, not my friends and definitely not my husband. Matt still saw the Elena of before; he didn't seem to really understand the Elena of now. Which was probably my fault for not communicating well enough over the past few years.

Finally I whispered, "Maybe."

My dad came over and gave me a hug, awkward as it was since we were both kneeling. "Elena, you are a Gilbert. You are smart and strong and you can do anything you set your mind to. But you have to stop living your life for other people. That means sometimes you're gonna have to make hard choices, but you need to do what's best for you. Not for your mother and me. Not for Matt. For you."

My mouth was a thin line on my face. "I know, Daddy."

"No matter what happens, no matter what decisions you might make or what paths your life might lead you down, I will always support you, honey. You know that, right?"

"I do." A single tear escaped the corner of my eye, trickling a path down the side of my nose. I quickly wiped it away.

"Come on, 'Lena. It's stifling up here and we've made a good dent in it for now. I think your mother has some freshly made iced tea in the refrigerator." He held out a hand to help me up, as much as standing up was possible in these cramped quarters, and we headed for the stairs.

* * *

Monday morning rolled around and with it came a new Accounting admin assistant. She was a young girl, fresh out of high school by the look of her, short, with shoulder-length brown hair and a cheerful smile. Her name was April Young. This meant I was no longer the 'New Girl' around here and frankly I was relieved to pass off that title to someone else.

Just after ten I got an e-mail from Damon asking me to grab the file for _Fell and Sons Funeral Home_ and come over when I had a free moment to go over the figures I sent to him last week. My heartrate sped up at the idea of going to sit in his office with him, even if we would be discussing work.

When I finished with the numbers I was working on, I retrieved the case file for _Fell and Sons_, refreshed my memory of what I'd done last week, and made my way over to the Marketing department with it clutched tightly in my fingers

I held my breath as I walked past Caroline's desk, not really wanting to explain where I was off to. Luckily she was on the phone. She caught my eye and flashed me a smile in greeting as I passed.

When I got to the open door of Damon's office, I stopped, took a deep breath, and braced myself mentally before knocking lightly on the edge of the wood as I poked my head in.

His face lit up with a big grin when he saw me, and he beckoned me to come inside. He was wearing a dark blue button-up shirt that made the rich colour of his eyes even more intense. I had to remind myself to keep breathing.

"Have a seat, Elena." He gestured toward one of the two guest chairs. I sat down carefully, smoothing out my skirt and propping the case file on my lap.

He got straight to business, asking me to explain my reasoning behind only giving the limited discount to the pricing that I had allowed. This seemed like something pretty basic, something that he could have easily e-mailed me about instead of calling me over. After answering his question, I waited for him to get to the real reason for wanting to see me in person. I assumed there had to be a more complicated issue to discuss.

To my surprise, he replied, "Okay, that makes sense." He made a notation in his own folder, then closed it and put it neatly to one side.

"So, how was your weekend?" he asked.

"Good," I replied politely. "Yours?"

"Just good? Do anything worth mentioning?" Damon's smile made my mind hazy and slow to function. I really hoped that reaction would diminish the more I got to know him.

I clasped my hands together to prevent them from fidgeting. He wanted to chat? Really? Okay, I could do this. What had I done this weekend again? Oh, right. "Um, I went over to my parents place to help my dad clean out the attic. Nothing too exciting."

"You close to your dad?" he wondered. The question was posed lightly but I could sense an undercurrent of something more below the surface.

"Very much so - with my dad. Not so much with my mom. What about you?"

He looked uncomfortable for a second. "My mother died when I was seven. Cancer. As for my father and me, well…let's just say it's complicated."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," I offered. I knew there wasn't really any good way to reply to the news that someone had lost a parent.

"It was a long time ago. Stefan doesn't even really remember her." He shrugged in a 'what can you do?' kind of gesture. I wanted to ask him more about his mother. What was she like? What did he recall about her? How does a seven-year-old boy deal with losing his mom like that? Did he have any female role models in his life after? But I didn't know Damon anywhere near well enough to ask such personal things. Maybe someday he'd tell me. Probably not. My heart ached for him. I wished I could just reach out and take in my arms the seven-year-old boy he used to be. And the fully-grown man he was now.

Deciding it might be a good idea to change the subject to something less intense, I said, "Thank you again for making me that CD. It's starting to really grow on me."

His serious face immediately flipped back to full-on smile. "I'm glad to hear that. Most of my buddies aren't into that kind of music. In fact, I don't think I know of anyone else who enjoys Joe Purdy like I do. I've actually been trying to learn the guitar tabs to 'Troubadour'. "

I gasped softly, insides tightening again. "You play guitar?" Oh, I was _so_ screwed now. Wasn't the plan to stomp out this silly crush so that we could be friendly co-workers without my wanting to lick him every time I laid eyes on him? _Damn_. He played guitar. Might as well dip himself in chocolate, too. This was even more of a disaster. A wonderful, scary, incredible, awful disaster.

"Not very well," he laughed. "But, yeah. I practice. Alexis loves listening to me play. She stops whatever she's doing and just watches my fingers move over the strings, completely mesmerized."

_I bet she does_, I thought. _I'd be mesmerized if you played for me, too._ "How old is Alexis?"

"Three and a half. And yes, before you ask, Andie was pregnant when we got married four years ago." He didn't seem embarrassed about that fact, but he definitely had a look on his face like he was expecting to be judged. And why wouldn't he? Everyone around here seemed to judge him harshly about everything, from what I could tell.

I just smiled. "I got married four years ago, too."

And then we talked for a few moments about that, and he showed me the wedding photo and picture of his daughter that sat on his desk, and it was all very casual and relaxed, like new friends getting to know each other should be.

New friends. We were friends. _Damon_ and I. Huh. Who would ever have guessed?

When I left his office and got back to my desk, that giddy feeling had taken me over again. I knew I was smiling way too much and hoped my co-workers wouldn't notice and ask why. I also decided that if we were going to treat each other like real friends, I should return the favour he'd done for me. I needed to make Damon a mix CD of some of my favourite songs. So, instead of diving right back into the next case in my in-basket, I opened an e-mail to send to myself at home and began to make a track listing. I hadn't been so excited about something so minor as picking out just the right songs in a really long time.

* * *

**A/N **_Thank you so much to those of you that have left me reviews so far! Special super thanks to morvamp for betaing and to sauriemilia and delena 123 for sharing their thoughts. __ Please consider leaving me a review of this chapter in the little box below. Even if you're not signed in, it will still let you. I've been in need of some massive cheering up lately and your reviews are just the thing! _**  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

**Elena  
**

The day of the BWS golf tournament dawned bright and sunny. When I left the cool of my house, the persistent low drone of cicadas filled the already humid morning air and I sighed. It was shaping up to be another Virginia summer scorcher. Swinging my sister-in-law's golf bag into the trunk, I hurried to get into the driver's seat and start the air conditioning flowing.

I'd taken my time picking out my outfit, but now suspected it would be damp and wilted before we finished even the first of nine holes this afternoon. Since the dress code was casual for today, I chose a pair of slim fitting, just-above-the-knee-length bright blue shorts and a black sleeveless blouse that cinched at the waist, tunic-style. It showed off a little bit of cleavage (not that I had much to present) but nothing that was inappropriate. I'd ponytailed my hair, added a necklace with a Celtic knot pendant and finished off with mascara, a touch of lipgloss and a spritz of strawberry-scented body spray. I was as ready as I'd ever be to face work and then a few hours with Damon in a golf cart - in other words, not in the slightest.

Employees attending the tournament were permitted to leave at two o'clock, but even with the shortened workday every minute seemed to drag. I got all caught up on my own stuff fairly quickly and decided to pop into Alaric's office to see if I could take any cases off him to help him out, since I knew he'd been pretty swamped this week. As I'd hoped, he was only too happy to hand over a few requests from his pile and I sat down in one of his guest chairs with the files in my hand.

"I can't believe you're looking for extra work, Elena. Your efficiency is gonna make the rest us look bad," he teased. "So, did you ever manage to find a golf partner for this afternoon?"

I smiled and confirmed that I had.

"Who'd you sucker into it?" he smirked, already having been informed of my decided lack of skills on the green.

"Um," I blushed. "Damon, actually. He offered," I quickly added.

"Did he?" Ric mused, one eyebrow rising. "You lucked out then - he's really good. Does he know you don't know how to play?" I hadn't told Alaric, or anyone else at our office, about Damon giving me lessons a few days ago.

"Yes, and I made that clear _before_ he asked me, too. Do you think he'll be annoyed about me dragging our team score down?" I'd been kind of concerned about that all week, although Damon had assured me it didn't matter and that he was convinced I was gonna be great.

Ric laughed. "Nah, I'm sure it'll be fine. He's not as bad as everyone around here says he is. I wouldn't worry."

I frowned for a second. "I'm not." But a part of me _was_ actually pretty worried. Not that Damon would be irritated, but that I'd make a fool of myself in front of him. It may sound silly to admit, but I still really wanted him to be impressed with me.

Alaric looked up and held my gaze for a minute, narrowing his eyes briefly as he studied my face. At times like these I really wished I had the power to read minds.

"Elena…" he started slowly, sighing. "Damon's a good guy at heart. He really is. Once you get to know him, anyway. I know he comes off around here as an ass most of the time, but…there are reasons for that. You have to remember: none of these people really know him. Just…just don't judge anyone by what other people tell you."

I smiled. "I never do, or I wouldn't have agreed to this. Thanks for the advice, though. _You_ know him, don't you?"

Alaric laughed. "I guess I do. As much as he lets anyone know him, anyway."

Biting my bottom lip, I considered Ric's words. Damon had seemed fairly open with me when we chatted at the driving range. He certainly hadn't been standoffish. Was that unusual behavior? Did he treat me differently from most others? If so, why? Would he ever let me _really_ get to know him? My mind was buzzing with questions and excitement at the prospect. For reasons that I couldn't articulate very well, I really wanted to know him. Maybe even needed to.

I stood up to go, but paused and looked back at him as I got to his office door. "So who did you end up getting paired up with, anyway?" I asked, realizing he hadn't mentioned it yet.

He rolled his eyes and chucked softly. "Wanna take a guess? I must be being punished for something."

My eyes widened in realization. "Oh, no," I groaned. "Katherine?"

"Yep."

* * *

Although I now had some more work to concentrate on, the rest of the afternoon didn't really seem to pass any faster. I checked my inbox nearly every five minutes, hoping I might hear something from Damon about where to meet him or if we would go to the course together. When it was approaching two o'clock and nearly time to head out, I asked Alaric if it would be okay if I followed him there, since I'd never been before. At that point I assumed, a bit disappointedly, that I'd just find Damon when we arrived.

I trailed Alaric's white Jeep as we hopped onto the Richmond Highway heading east. We got off about fifteen minutes later, took a few turns onto country roads, and finally pulled into the parking lot of the Falling River Country Club less than ten minutes after that. It was filling up fast and I wasn't able to find a spot anywhere near the clubhouse. Tugging down the driver's side visor, I examined myself in the mirror and touched up my berry-hued lip-gloss. My heart began to pick up speed with a combination of both anticipation and anxiety at the thought of seeing Damon in a few minutes.

Popping on my sunglasses, I reluctantly left the cool interior of my car. I paused to take a glance around as I retrieved the clubs from my trunk. I was surrounded by lush green everywhere I looked: the freshly mown grass, the majestic tall trees, the closely-clipped hedges. All of this verdant nature was broken up by a pale gray clubhouse looming out of the middle of it. A massive wrap-around wooden deck divided all the gray siding and there were staff in crisp white shirts setting tables along it.

Alaric waved to me from beside his Jeep and I hurried over to him, hauling Vickie's awkward pink golf bag over one shoulder. We walked along the side of the building and down a small hill at the bottom of which I saw many BWS people gathered around rows of white golf carts getting organized.

Ric clapped me on the shoulder and wished me luck as he pasted on a fake smile and strode over to join Katherine. I nervously scanned all the groups of chatting people for Damon. At first I couldn't locate him and I grew even more apprehensive. Suddenly his grinning face was directly in front of me, startling me. I gasped softly and my eyes widened for a moment at the sight of him. Today he was wearing a dark red golf shirt and black cargo shorts. I'd never seen him in a bright colour before and was impressed by how amazing the red looked against his light skin.

"There you are. Find the place okay?" He was quick to unburden me of the golf clubs and took them over to stand up in the back of a golf cart with a number sixteen painted on the side of the glaring white roof.

"I followed Ric, actually," I replied, sliding onto the passenger side of the wide padded seat. It was covered in vinyl and I was grateful my shorts were long enough that my thighs wouldn't end up sticking to it. Two bottles of water were already sitting in the cup holders for us.

Damon sat down beside me, turned to meet my eyes and, contrary to all logic, I think the temperature actually shot up a few degrees above sweltering as he looked me over. "I would've offered to drive you, but I was out of the office at a client's with Carol Lockwood today, so I'm without wheels.

"That's okay," I said casually. I wondered if that meant he'd planned on drinking this afternoon and I recalled what Caroline had told me about his former alcohol problem from years ago. It was none of my business though, as long as he didn't get hammered and try to drive later, which didn't seem like it would be a concern with no car here.

We were assigned to begin on the sixth hole for today's round-robin tournament, and since Damon had golfed this course many times before, he knew just where to go. We joined the line of carts and then turned to the right and took off down a narrow paved path.

When we found the bright yellow flag with the big black six on it marking the tee-off point, Damon parked the cart and went around to the back to choose our clubs. He selected a thick-based club from each bag and passed me the one with the pink pleather handle.

I thanked him and looked it over before smiling up at him. "This is a driver, right?" He nodded, apparently pleased that I'd remembered. "My sister-in-law loaned me her clubs for the day. Have to say, hot pink is _really_ not my colour."

A perplexed expression crossed his face for a second. "No? Huh," he remarked. Then he looked thoughtful. "I've never seen you wear pink, actually. You're not much of a girly-girl, are you?"

"Not really," I replied, amazed at the fact that he even noticed what I wore at all. Most guys just didn't pay attention to stuff like that. Matt certainly couldn't have told you what I was wearing last night or probably any other time, with the possible exception of our wedding day. Even then, if someone asked him, I'd bet you a dollar his reply would simply be "white."

Damon lightly brushed his fingers against the small of my back as he guided me toward the place where we were supposed to tee off and I instantly lost my train of thought. All the muscles in my abdomen tightened reflexively and it felt like flames danced over my skin where he had briefly touched me. God, this man did crazy things to my insides.

He knelt down and pushed a yellow tee into the ground. Carefully balancing a white golf ball on it, he looked up at me and said with a smile, "Ladies first."

_Crap. Well, here goes nothing_, I thought as I hesitantly approached the tee.

I positioned myself at a ninety-degree angle to where I wanted the ball to go and tried to recall all the things he'd taught me last week. Gripping the club with both hands, thumbs down, I bent my knees and took a few practice swings.

"You can do it, Elena. Just remember what I showed you." He voice came from only a few feet behind me and I instinctually straightened right back up as soon as I realized his proximity. Taking a deep breath, I resumed the position. My problem wasn't so much that I'd forgotten my lesson; the bulk of my nerves had a whole lot more to do with the man who was so closely observing my performance at the moment.

I psyched myself up, swung the club out behind me and followed through with as much force as I could muster. I heard the sound of a low _foomp_ and something flew into the air in front of me. For a second I was excited, but then I looked down to see the ball still sitting serenely on the tee, untouched. Just beside it was a small hole in the grass where I'd taken out a divot.

My face grew hot and I muttered, "Crap!"

Damon laughed and trotted down the lawn to retrieve the clump of earth I'd knocked out. He brought it over and pushed it firmly back into place.

"No big deal. Everyone does that sometimes. Just try it again," he said patiently.

I blew out a frustrated puff of air and flashed him a tight smile, but said nothing. Bending my knees slightly, I took the position again, trying to concentrate solely on the ball and on where I wanted it to go, not on the eyes watching me.

I swung hard for the second time, and to my dismay another chunk of dirt went flying._ Dammit! _At this rate we were going to have little hollows all over the ground around the tee, not to mention a lineup of people cursing at us as they waited to play this hole.

Damon calmly retrieved the second lump of grass and again pushed it back into its original place. He straightened up and turned to face me. His mouth curved up on one side as he looked me right in the eyes. "Elena, it's okay. Just try to relax."

I held his gaze. "I'm trying to do what you showed me, I really am," I assured him. I didn't want him to think I hadn't been paying attention during our lesson or that I'd forgotten it all already.

"I know you are. But you're too stiff. You're stressing yourself out and that's only going to make it harder. Believe me, I know." He chuckled to himself. "You should have seen me when I was learning to drive. My dad used to get _so_ pissed off at me!"

"Really?" I asked. I remembered him telling me that the two of them didn't see eye to eye on much.

"Yep. And he'd yell at me, which only made me even more tense." He put a hand on my shoulder. "This tournament today is just for fun, you know. No one cares how well you play."

"I care," I replied quietly.

"I can see that." He smiled at me and dropped his hand back to his side. Instantly I missed his touch. "Just… pretend it's just you and me here. No one else around for miles. And no pressure. Then focus on where the ball is gonna land once you knock it off that tee."

Turning around to face that damn little dimpled ball again, I reassumed the stance for the third time. I closed my eyes for a second and imagined there was no one on the entire course but me. I didn't even include Damon, since his presence made me far more nervous than anyone else's could.

Then I opened my eyes, drew the club back behind me and, with a fast exhalation, followed through. This time, rather than a _foomp_, I heard a distinct _thwack_.

"Yes! You did it!" Damon exclaimed behind me.

Shielding my eyes with my palm, I scanned the expanse of clipped grass for the tiny white dot of my ball.

"Where did it go?" I asked him, when I couldn't locate it.

"Down there." He pointed to a dip slightly off to the side of the vibrant green fairway. "Don't worry about that, though. It'll be easy for you to get it back up where you want it. That was a great first drive!"

It was now his turn, and when his back was to me I removed a tissue from the pocket of my shorts and wiped as much sweat off my face, neck and upper chest as I could. I'd had the forethought to pack sunscreen in my bag and knew it would be a smart idea to reapply when we got back into the golf cart.

The view of Damon from behind as he drove his ball down the course was impressive. Then, remembering that at any given time today we could have an audience, I raised my gaze to try to track where his golf ball would land.

Once he noted its position, we jumped back into the cart and drove over to where my ball was. Since mine was furthest away from the hole, I had to go next.

We played out the rest of the sixth hole without a lot of difficulty and moved onto the seventh. By the time we got to the eighth hole, Katherine and Alaric had caught up and were having to wait for us to finish before they could begin.

Damon leaned in toward me conspiratorially across the seat. "Mind if we let them play ahead? That way you won't feel any pressure about them waiting for us to finish. And I don't have to endure Katherine's bitchy face at every hole."

I could feel the tickle of his breath against my ear and it sent shivers along my overheated skin. He was way too close for comfort at the moment. I shook my head and laughed nervously. "Good idea. I hate being the cause of that face."

He pulled back a few inches and gave me an incredulous look. "I don't think it's you causing that, Elena. I'm pretty sure she was probably born with it." Just before he got out to go over to them, I heard him mutter, "I don't know how Stefan ever stood that every day."

Ah, yes. Again it crossed my mind that I had no idea what the real story was with Damon and Katherine's history. I wondered if I'd ever find out what had really happened.

As we sat in our golf cart under the shade of a huge oak tree and watched them play the hole in front of us, I quietly confided, "Ric was _not_ happy about having to be her partner. He told me he felt like he was being punished for something."

Damon chucked. "I bet."

"Why didn't you partner up with him?" I asked suddenly. "You two are friends, right?"

He looked over at me. "We are, yes. But I already had the partner I wanted."

"What happened to them? They back out on you?"

"Nope, " he replied, shifting his gaze back to Alaric and Katherine.

Oh. _Oh!_ I felt heat rise to my cheeks again as I realized what he meant. I grabbed for my bottle of water and didn't say another word on that topic.

My anxiety drained away a bit by the time we'd played a few more holes. At one point we were stopped by the edge of a small river waiting for our turn on the next one. I swiped sweat off my brow with my forearm and stared longingly at the water. "I'd love to go leap in that river right now to cool down," I sighed, fanning myself with the scorecard.

"Me, too," Damon agreed. "Imagine the rumours that would fly if the two of us stripped down and jumped in the water, huh?"

I laughed, but I couldn't quite keep a tinge of shakiness out of it. What I was now imagining at his words had nothing to do with any potential rumours and a whole lot to do with the thought of us swimming naked together. Skinny-dipping with Damon? Now I had yet another scenario to add to my personal fantasy trove. I needed to get those thoughts out of my head pronto. Damn him for even bringing that image into my mind in the first place. Damn him and his piercing blue eyes. Damn his sexy lopsided smile. Damn his hot muscular body that I'd truly love to see sans clothing. Argh. I really, _really_ needed to think about something else.

Luckily it was our turn to play. And later, as we drove the course, we began talking about music again, and some of the concerts we'd been to and it wasn't long before that easy rapport between us fell back into place.

When I told him I'd seen David Bowie play live, he responded, "How old _are_ you, anyway, Elena?"

"I'm twenty-nine," I replied. "But I've been a Bowie fan since I was a kid. Why? How old are you?"

"Thirty-four."

"You don't look it," I remarked honestly.

He laughed. "I sure feel it some days. No, actually some days I feel seventy-four." He shook his head once, as if to clear out something he'd rather not think about. "God, I'd love to see Bowie. If he plays Richmond again, we should go."

I froze, not sure how to respond to that. He wasn't really asking me to go to a concert with him, was he? That casual comment sure sounded a bit like he was implying…a date. Which he wasn't. Absolutely wasn't. We were both married. Going to a concert together, not to mention a concert in another city, would not be a good idea. Even just as friends. I mean, of _course_ it would be just as friends, but even still. I realized I had to say something though, or risk looking rude. Deciding finally to just keep it simple and honest, I replied in a low voice, "That would be awesome."

Even if it was never gonna happen.

* * *

When we got back to the clubhouse, I was feeling rather pleased with myself. On the final hole, my ball had ended up in the sand right beside the green. Damon had handed me a sand wedge and with one sharp swing I'd managed to pop it up right beside the hole. He had actually shouted in glee and clapped me on the back as he told me what a great shot it was. He'd been really proud of me. For a second there I'd actually thought he was going to hug me, but he didn't.

He tallied up our scores after we dropped off the golf cart behind the clubhouse . "We actually didn't do too bad, Elena," he assured me. "For your first ever time playing, you really did well!"

"I had a great teacher," I said, as we smiled at each other. "Are you heading inside?"

"I need to hand in our scorecard and then I'm going to change. I'll see you in there," he replied. It felt a bit like a dismissal and I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, although I really had no valid reason to be. I took my borrowed clubs back to my car, then headed inside to use the facilities and freshen myself up a bit before the socializing part of this event began.

Caroline quickly found me when I came into the dining area after touching up my wilted hair and make-up. She dragged me over to a corner table to sit with Tyler, Alaric and herself. Before long, Stefan joined us as well. We'd all gotten two free drink tickets from the company social director and Tyler got up to get us a tray of mojitos. I noticed Damon join Ty at the bar and wished I'd gone over to get my own drink. Then, as I watched, a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair joined them. Damon turned to her with a smile, slipped an arm around her waist and planted a kiss on her lips. My stomach dropped to the floor as I realized I was looking at Andie Star.

So much for spending any more time with him this evening. I suddenly had a crazy urge to skip dinner and head straight back to Mystic Falls. When Tyler returned with our drinks, I downed mine in about four large gulps.

Caroline turned to me in surprise. "Whoa! What's the rush, Elena?" I just shrugged and flashed her a tight-lipped grin.

"Hey, no explanation necessary. If I'd had to spend the last two hours in a golf cart with Damon, I'd need a drink, too." She laughed. I didn't.

I leaned over closer to her. "Thought this was a spouse-free event? I didn't know I could've invited Matt."

She frowned at me. "It is. Why do you ask?" I glanced toward the bar and she followed the path of my eyes with her own. "Oh. Well, it's _supposed_ to be. Damon Salvatore, as usual, doesn't care about the rules and does whatever the hell he wants." She rolled her eyes. I just snorted. Maybe she was right about him.

Much as I still felt like heading straight home, I decided to hold out until after dinner. I slid my second free drink ticket across the table top to Alaric. He raised his eyes to mine with a questioning look and I nodded at him that it was okay, so he pocketed it without comment.

I intended to hurry through my meal, wanting to finish up as quickly as possible and make my excuses for bailing out early to the others, but I found I really wasn't very hungry anymore. The food was delicious, but I just couldn't seem to enjoy it – to be honest, I actually felt kind of sick to my stomach. I tried to tell myself it was caused by a combination of being out so long in the heat and that mojito swishing around in there.

I deliberately didn't look around for Damon, instead concentrating on the conversations around me. Caroline was used to me being quiet and listening more often than chatting, so I knew I wouldn't appear too antisocial.

Finally I gave up on the pretense of eating and pushed my plate away. Just as I thought I was going to succeed in escaping, I heard Alaric's voice say, "Damon! Andie! Great to see you both. So, Damon, how did your team end up finishing today?"

_Shit_. Now I was going to have to be involved in this conversation whether I wanted to or not. I pasted on a small smile and looked up at them. They were standing to my right behind Alaric. Damon had one hand braced on the back of Stefan's empty chair and Andie's fingers were wrapped loosely around his arm. Wrapped _possessively_ around his arm, I thought, a tad jealously.

Damon glanced over at me, then back to Ric and to me again. For some reason he didn't seem quite as cheerful as he'd been when we'd parted ways earlier. "We did fairly well, placing twelfth overall out of thirty-two teams."

"That's good," I said carefully. "Guess I didn't bring you down as badly as I thought I would." Luckily he had golfed a great game, single-handedly saving our score himself, I felt.

"Don't be so self-deprecating, Elena. You were great." He turned to Andie. "This is my golfing partner, Elena Gilbert. Not sure if you two remember each other from high school or not, but Elena, I'd like you to meet my wife, Andie."

Andie stuck out one perfectly manicured hand to me and I shook it briefly. "Yes, I remember you. How are you these days, Andie?"

Making small talk with Damon's wife was pretty low on my list of things I wanted to be doing right now, but I managed the best I could. She claimed she didn't really recall me very well, but I wasn't sure if she was being completely truthful about that or not. We chatted about a few mutual friends from Mystic Falls for a minute or two, but then she suddenly saw someone at another table who she really need to speak with and they hurried away.

I'm not gonna lie; she actually seemed pretty nice. She didn't appear to be the bitch that some small and incredibly petty part of me had kind of hoped she'd be.

Still though, I decided I'd really had enough of this particular work function and I said my goodbyes to the others at my table. As I headed for the doors that led out to the parking lot, I noticed Damon walking by himself back up to the bar. For a moment I contemplated going over, thanking him again and letting him know I was going home.

I thought about it. It would be the polite thing to do, I knew. But in the end I didn't. I just walked out those thick oak double doors and went straight to my car. Damon was not good for me in any way, shape or form and I knew damn well that continuing along the emotional road I was currently headed down was only going to lead to me getting hurt. And that was the last thing I needed.

* * *

**A/N** _Thank you so much to those of you that have left me reviews or favourites! Each and every one of them boosts my mood. Extra thanks to morvamp, afanoftvd, sauriemilia and delena123 for their proofreading and opinions. It's been a rough month or two for me and this story is my happy place. Reviews are very much appreciated and if you have any questions, please just ask. Have a great weekend!  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

**Damon**

The trajectory of my day went kind of like this: mediocre, fucking amazing and then, as often seems to happen to me, it all went to complete shit.

It had started off fairly innocuously this morning with a client meeting in Appomattox with Carol Lockwood, which I rocked. I used my charm and knowledge to help her land them, and, from the sounds of it, we'd have a signed contract in our office in the morning. She'd taken me out for lunch and a beer afterwards to thank me, since the client would be hers and therefore so would any anticipated commission. Carol's a widow and she just loves to flirt with me, wedding band on my finger notwithstanding. Which made having lunch just the two of us, well…let's just say amusing at best. Actually 'fucking awkward' is probably a better way to describe it. I knew she intended I think she wasn't being serious, unless of course I ever decided to take her up on her alluded offers, then I've no doubt she'd become very serious indeed about the prospect of getting into my pants. Not gonna lie – I'm pretty used to women flirting with me, and I know how to handle it. Carol's a very attractive woman in her late forties, but it was neither her age nor her looks that was holding me back. First off, she was my co-worker, but secondly and more importantly, I was taken. If I'd wanted some pussy on the side I could have had plenty, but ever since the day I realized that Andie was the woman I wanted to spend my life with, I hadn't wanted to be with anyone else. So, as always, I politely ignored Carol's not-so-subtle come-ons, just as I did the countless other offers I got on a regular basis.

When we got to Falling River Country Club, I left Carol with my father who was her partner for the day, found Elena and promptly forgot about everything that was even vaguely pissing me off. And though she was a bit nervous at first, she eventually got the hang of it and we had a great time golfing together. For reasons I deliberately chose to not to look too closely at, I was able to relax completely around her. We chatted and laughed and it was all really easy. Easy. It struck me that 'easy' was something I hadn't felt with any adult other than Ric in a very long time.

I honestly had no idea Andie was going to show up in the clubhouse dining room that evening. I'd figured I'd grab a ride back to Lynchburg with Rose, or Tyler if he was sober, or maybe even Stefan. Apparently my wife had left work early for once and decided to come meet me. Not that I was unhappy she came – far from it – she just took me by surprise. Any ideas I might have had about later having a drink and more conversation with my pretty golf partner went out the window the moment Andie's fingers touched my arm. Not that I'd done anything to feel guilty about. I hadn't. Yet I felt a twinge of guilt anyway when I turned around and saw her beside me. The truth was, for a brief moment there I'd actually been hoping those fingers belonged to Elena.

And – God help me – I was, just for a split second, disappointed to see Andie standing there. Hence the guilt. Man, I really am an asshole sometimes. I loved my wife. I loved my family. The very last thing in the world I wanted to do was jeopardize any of that. I needed to smarten right the fuck up and get a hold of myself.

I put my arm around Andie and gave her a kiss hello. And after supper I made a special point to take her over to the table where Elena sat so that I could introduce them. I wanted to keep everything completely above board. No secrets, therefore nothing for me to feel guilty about. Right? Then why was I still so fucking ill at ease for the entire two minutes that Andie chatted with Elena?

I needed to put a lid on these unwelcome feelings pronto and crazy glue that motherfucker down. Elena Gilbert meant nothing more to me than a new co-worker and, quite possibly, a new friend. Sure, she was sexy as hell, but looking at her wasn't a crime. Talking to her wasn't inappropriate. Being her friend was not a betrayal of my wedding vows. So why did I feel so awkward as Andie laced her hand through mine and led me away from their table?

A few minutes later, I went up to the bar to get us fresh drinks and noticed the back of Elena's head as she exited the dining area. For reasons I can't even begin to explain, I slipped out the heavy double doors behind her. She was walking across the parking lot toward her car and a wave of disappointment washed through me as I realized she was heading home. I don't know why her leaving without saying goodbye bothered me so much, but it definitely did. Conflicting feelings were ricocheting around inside my head. I mentally grabbed every last one of them and shoved them down, down, down as far as I could push them.

I leaned against the wall next to the door and silently watched her climb into her car and drive away as the setting sun painted the clouds pink and orange above the trees along the horizon. I had no clue if she saw me standing there or not, but if she did, she gave no sign.

The air was finally beginning to lose the suffocating grip of midsummer heat and I stayed where I was for a few minutes, just breathing and trying my level best to not even think.

The door opened beside me and my brother's voice shattered my small window of down time. "What are _you_ doing out here?"

_Great. Just what I need right now._ I sighed. "Nothing. Just getting some air."

"You followed Elena out." Stefan posed it like an accusation, not a question. Leave it to my brother to assume the worst of me. He got that straight from our old man.

Clawing back my temper, I answered him in as even a voice as I could muster. "I didn't follow her, Stefan. I didn't even talk to her. Just saw her taillights as she drove off. Stop trying to spot trouble where there isn't any. Haven't you got enough problems of your own to deal with?"

He turned to face me directly and straightened his back so that he looked down at me. I guess it was supposed to make me feel intimidated or something; I don't know. Sure didn't work, I can tell you that. "You wanna know what my problem is, brother?"

I closed my eyes for a split second in frustration. I knew damn well what he was doing and I couldn't let myself be baited. Not right now; not when my emotions were balancing a tight rope as it was. "Nope. But I know you're gonna tell me," I replied evenly.

"You. You're my fucking problem, Damon." His face was dead calm, a bad sign. I wondered if he'd reacquired any more of his little yellow pills. Chances were good. I'd have to ransack his Porsche later. And probably his goddamn office, too. Fuck my life.

"Why's that, Stefan? Cause I clean up your messes?" I probably shouldn't have goaded him. But he just made it so damn irresistible.

"My life would've been far better if you'd just stayed away. Why the hell did you have to come back here? Things were going great for me before you came back. I was happy. I was in love. But ever since you returned, everything has gone to shit. Why, Damon? Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone?"

Yeah, this was definitely looking like it could get ugly. I used every ounce of restraint in me to not show my rising anger. "That's not true and you know it," I gritted out. "Who's the one keeping you straight? Keeping your secrets for you?"

"Secrets! That's rich coming from you, Damon. You know all about secrets, don't you? Secrets like how you were fucking Katherine the whole time she was with me?"

I clenched my fists against my sides and shook my head incredulously. Not this again. I'd thought maybe we were finally past this same fucking argument. I'm not proud of it, but yes, I'd slept with Katherine. Once. Before they were ever married. It was a moment of very drunken weakness and we'd both regretted it later. At some point after she and my brother married, she'd stupidly confessed our dalliance and then all hell had broken loose. Stefan never trusted either of us after that. He managed to convince his paranoid self that she'd continued fucking me. His insecurities basically destroyed his marriage. Katherine was, without doubt, a self-centered bitch, but as far as I knew she hadn't broken her wedding vows. At least not with me.

I opened my mouth to deny his accusations yet again, but he wasn't finished. A shrewd look came over his face and a knowing grin twisted his lips. "You've always preferred other men's women, haven't you, brother? So they won't expect any commitments? Are you fucking Elena Gilbert now? She does have sweet little tits. I'd love to get my hands on those."

At that, I fucking lost it. All my hard fought self-control went right out the goddamn window when he mentioned Elena. My fist seemed to have a mind of its own and it connected squarely with his face. Needless to say, he went down hard on his ass on the pavement. The complete and utter shock on his face was incredibly satisfying.

But my sense of satisfaction lasted only a second, because our father chose that exact moment to step outside.

Guiseppe Salvatore took one look at Stefan lying on the ground rubbing his jaw and turned to me accusingly. "Damon!" His voice was filled to the brim with disgust and disappointment. "You're at a work function! Whatever's going on between you two this time - keep it in private. Or, better yet, maybe you should just keep it to yourself."

He reached a hand down to Stefan and helped him up. "You okay, son?"

My brother looked a little dazed, but otherwise no worse for wear. He would have a bruised jaw tomorrow, but his ego didn't even get scratched. "Thanks, Dad. I'm fine." They both glared at me.

As he herded Stefan back inside, my father turned back to me. "I think it's time you went home, Damon." He didn't ask what we were fighting about and he really didn't care. As long as Stefan wasn't hurt and I didn't embarrass Guiseppe in public, that was all that mattered to him.

I slumped back against the wall again, sighing in frustration as I massaged my throbbing knuckles. I really should've been used to this shit from Stefan by now. And as for being held at fault by my father, well that was old news, too. Yet every once in awhile it kind of got to me. Sometimes I still felt like that eight-year-old boy who was never good enough, never smart enough and could never make my dad happy no matter how hard I tried.

Pulling my phone out of my jacket, I texted Andie to meet me at her car. Elena wasn't going to be the only one leaving this event without any goodbyes.

* * *

One morning around a week later I found myself sitting in Ric's office. We'd just finished going over some numbers for a quote for a chain of Virginia-based coffee shops and I was more than pleased with the results. If I won this business, it could mean a nice future cash injection for both the company and my bank account if they went national, which I had a very strong inkling they would.

"So, how was golfing with the BFH?" I asked him, leaning back in the chair. That was one of our little private jokes. Bitch From Hell equaled Katherine.

He laughed dismissively. "Oh, you know. I am nothing if not a man of great patience. I'm friends with you, aren't I?"

"Your point being?" I asked with a smirk and a raised brow.

"Exactly. No, really though. It wasn't so bad. I let her beat me, of course."

"Of course," I agreed. We were both fully aware that Katherine always needed to feel like she was better at everything than everyone else. But personally, I'd never have underplayed in order to feed her ego. She had her superiority complex down to a fucking science already. I'd have blown her ass right off the green and enjoyed every last second of it. Ric, however, was not me. And she was his boss. So I got it.

"And how did you and Elena get along?" he asked casually. "She was pretty nervous before we left the office that day."

Hmm. So she hadn't told him that I'd given her a lesson the week prior? Interesting. I wondered if she'd told anyone here. Somehow I doubted it. I smirked imagining Blondie's reaction to that particular piece of news. "And what would she have to be nervous about? The rest of them tell her I'd eat her alive or something?"

Alaric snickered. 'Probably, yeah," he admitted. He looked me right in the eyes. "She seemed a bit uncomfortable at dinner. And she took off abruptly right after. Did anything happen while you guys were golfing, Damon? Please tell me you weren't a dick to her."

I held his gaze and kept my face serious. "I wasn't a dick to her." He looked skeptical. Flashing him a smile, I elaborated, "No, really, Ric. I know it boggles the mind, but I wasn't. We actually get along great."

"Girl obviously isn't as smart as I thought," he deadpanned.

Laughing out loud, I said, "She's a fucking genius. Way brighter than all the rest of you assholes put together."

When Ric had finished chuckling, he mused, "I wonder what was bothering her that night then. I just assumed it was something you'd said or done. Frankly, I'm still not convinced it wasn't."

"I have no idea," I replied. But I wondered as well. She'd apparently been uncomfortable over supper and straight after she'd zipped out of there like she couldn't wait to escape. Something had to have been up.

Simplest way to find out? I'd just have to ask her myself.

* * *

**Elena**

I'd spent most of the last seven days telling myself that it would be far better if Damon and I had a working relationship only. Becoming friends just wasn't going to work out well for my emotional well being if I wasn't able to shake this silly schoolgirl crush. And my reaction to seeing Andie at the clubhouse last week had only made that more glaringly obvious. I should not feel like I needed to run away every time I saw her. I should not get those distracting waves of jealousy. I couldn't take any more chances that my growing feelings for Damon would make me act in ways that were inappropriate. If I couldn't squash them so that we could be friends, then I'd just have to keep my distance as much as possible.

I hadn't seen or had any communication with him since the golf tournament either, and I was hoping that would last for a while longer. The problem was that there was also a not-small part of me that missed seeing his smile. Right now I was not a big fan of that part.

Matt and I had taken my parents canoeing at Staunton River State Park over the weekend. We'd camped over night one night, and the two days had flown by in a whirlwind of activity. In the midst of that, I'd gotten to spend some much-needed alone time with my dad fishing early Sunday morning, which we hadn't done in years. His health seemed much better and my worries about him were starting to alleviate. The mist hovering over the water and the still morning air as we sat in the canoe were more awe-inspiring to me than any church service ever could have been. The only sounds were the occasional splashes as a fish leapt from the water after a bug for breakfast, or the creak of the wooden canoe as we shifted our weight. We barely needed to talk; we just enjoyed the peace and each other's company.

I was tempted more than once to spill my guts to my dad about Damon, and maybe even the extent of the emotional turmoil I was feeling, but in the end I didn't. My father wouldn't have judged me, but I also didn't want him to worry about me. Which he very much would have.

I was worried about myself enough for both of us.

When I came back to my desk after lunch and noticed an e-mail from Damon was waiting for me in my in-basket, I had mixed feelings. It's hard to accurately describe the strange combination of chagrin, anxiety and pleasure that washed through me the moment I saw his name. Hesitantly I opened his message. It was brief and to the point, as always.

_Time to drop by? I'll be here until 1:00._

I glanced at the clock in the bottom corner of my screen. It was twelve thirty-three. His e-mail was time-stamped twelve nineteen. Not much of a window of opportunity. He hadn't said what he wanted to see me about, either. There was no mention of a client.

Leaning back in my chair, I restlessly drummed my fingers against the edge of my desk. What to do, what to do. Did he only want to chat? Was that a particularly good idea? Sure, I could just drop everything and hurry straight over to his office, like he apparently expected me to. On the other hand, I could let the time run out and, if he asked later, tell him I hadn't seen his message soon enough for a visit today.

The latter idea was probably the smartest choice. I knew it was. I deleted his e-mail without replying and opened the next one to see what Caroline needed from me for one of Stefan's clients. I even went back to the file room to retrieve the file and get started on her request.

However, not three minutes later I found myself with my heart lodged in my throat, nervously knocking on Damon's partially open office door. My lack of willpower when it came to this man was startlingly annoying.

As soon as he saw it was me, he broke into a wide smile. "Hey," he greeted me. Crooking two fingers my way in a beckoning gesture, he said, "Come on in."

I dropped into one of the two chairs and fought back the grin that craved to mirror his own. I didn't know what this was about, but I was determined to keep it short and professional.

Damn, but he looked good. He was wearing yet another black button-up today. No one should be allowed to look that good in a simple black shirt. It was frankly unfair to the rest of the men sharing the planet with him. I sighed internally. I needed to stop mentally drooling and pay attention. Becoming distracted by imagining what his bare chest would look like as I slowly undid the buttons of that shirt was not helping my cause at all.

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked me over. "You're tense again. Something wrong?"

I was confused. "Again? Why do you say 'again'?" I asked.

"Last week at the tournament," he replied. "When we came up to your table after dinner, you seemed anxious. And then you left right after. I hope it wasn't anything I said." He smiled as he finished, as if to assure me he was kidding about the last bit. Unfortunately he was closer to the truth than he realized.

I was shocked that he'd been able to pick up on my state of mind both right now and last Thursday night, to be honest. Was I really that obvious? I was also surprised he'd seen me walking out. Now I felt guilty for not going over to say goodbye. I honestly hadn't believed he'd even notice my leaving. But apparently I'd been wrong.

I didn't want to lie. "I wasn't feeling very well, and just wanted to get home as soon as I could. Sorry I didn't say goodbye." My voice unconsciously lowered an octave on my second sentence.

"That sucks," he said, waving off my apology. "Are you still feeling unwell?"

My cheeks grew hot again. Damn it. "No, I'm fine now. Thanks." Well, okay, that was a little white lie. I was most definitely not _fine_. I decided this conversation needed to move right along and get to the point. "What was it you needed today? You didn't say in your message."

He tilted his head slightly. "Do I have to need something? What if I just wanted to talk to you? Would that be alright?" He was smiling at me again, waiting for my reaction.

I didn't know what to say. I understood now that being friends with Damon would be a seriously slippery slope. It would be far better for my emotional well-being and for my career at BWS if we kept things strictly professional. And yet…and yet I found I really wanted to be this man's friend. I got the distinct impression he didn't have many of them. And I genuinely enjoyed his company, even if he did make my stomach do cartwheels.

I smiled tentatively at him. "Yes," I said softly. "Yes, it's absolutely fine." I knew I was undoubtedly making a big mistake encouraging this, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

"Good." He smiled at me. "So, tell me about your weekend. What goes on in Mystic Falls on a Saturday night, anyway? Everyone in town hang out at that one bar?"

"Something like that, yeah. But I wasn't in Mystic Falls this weekend." I proceeded to explain to him about my camping trip with my family and fishing with my father. He told me how he used to camp with his brother when they were small, but he hadn't gone in about twenty years. The reflective expression on his face conveyed to me that it was an activity he missed.

"Maybe you could take Alexis some time?" I suggested. To tell the truth, I really couldn't picture the completely put-together Andie Star roughing it in a tent, but maybe I was wrong about her.

"That's a very good idea," he agreed. I decided not to ask if Andie would go, too.

On impulse, I described a Fourth of July camping trip I'd taken in my late teens with a bunch of girlfriends and how much fun we'd had partying at a State Park, nearly setting one of our tents on fire that night.

"Do you still keep in touch with your old friends from high school?" he asked me.

"Some of them, yes, others only at Christmas when they're in town visiting their families. But we all stay in contact over Facebook."

"Ah, Facebook. Yeah, people keep telling me it's a good way to keep up with people," he mused.

"You're not on Facebook?" I thought everyone was on Facebook by now.

"Nope," he admitted. "I'm behind the times with social media. Didn't see the point, really. But there _are_ some friends I'd like to touch base with again. Maybe I should get on it. What do you think?"

"I think you should. Come join the twenty-first century, Damon." I teased. "If it's too confusing for you, I'd be happy to walk you through it. You can put the app on your phone and use it that way, so you don't have to wait until you're at home in front of your computer."

He pulled his Blackberry out of his jacket pocket and tossed it to me. "Go ahead, Miss Smarty-pants. Install Facebook on my phone and set me up."

I clutched his phone in my hand and stared at him. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. And don't forget to add yourself to my contacts."

My eyebrows shot up incredulously, but I downloaded the free Facebook app for him and set up his account. And before I handed it back to him, I friend requested myself as he'd asked. "Done. You'll need to change your password to one I don't know now. I think there's a tutorial you can walk your way through."

Damon laughed. "Don't worry, I'm a fast learner. And if I have questions, I know who to bug." He glanced down at his watch and frowned. "And on that note, Elena, I hate to cut this short but I've got a meeting on the other side of Lynchburg that I need to haul my ass over to."

I stood up to go. "No problem. I should get back to work anyway."

He shook his cell phone in my direction before re-pocketing it. "Thanks for this. Chat with you soon, then." I didn't know if he meant on Facebook or in person, but either way, those damn butterflies started winging around inside me again at the thought.

On my way back to my desk I realized I still had the CD I'd made for him tucked into my purse, where it had sat all week. Damn. Oh well, I'd get it to him next time he called me over. And I was fully confident there would be a next time soon.

* * *

**A/N ** _Massive thanks to those of you that have left me reviews and/or favourites! I cannot tell you how much I love reading what you think of my writing. Special thanks to afanoftvd for betaing and to sauriemilia and delena123 for their advice. Hope you liked this chapter. If you're able to at all, please let me know your thoughts by reviewing. You guys are the best!  
_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

**Elena**

Before I went to my desk the following morning, I stopped by Damon's office to finally drop off that CD of some of my favourite songs I'd made for him. The Marketing department was always deserted, or nearly so, at that early hour, but I knew occasionally Damon took advantage of the quiet time to get some work done without interruptions.

Unfortunately this Friday wasn't one of those days. His office sat silent and empty. Dust motes twirled lazily in the rays of sunshine stabbing between the slats of his window blinds. Stepping inside to prop the CD against his keyboard, I happened to glance over at the dual photo frame sitting beside his monitor and I was suddenly overcome with the most surreal feeling of déjà vu. I whipped my head around to face the door, half expecting Damon to be standing there watching me, like he'd been in my dream from weeks ago.

A current of disappointment shot through me when I saw the doorframe remained empty. The sound of my own breathing thundered in my ears and I realized I was unconsciously pressing my fingers against my lips. Oh, that kiss. _God_, that was some kiss! I leaned against the side of his desk for a second as I recalled it. I knew it was just a dream and that it could never happen in reality, but God, it had felt _so_ real! Matt had never kissed me in a way that had ever made me feel like that. No one had.

Before I could squash it, a maliciously honest little thought zipped across my mind. _ I could live the rest of my life and never know what it's like to be kissed like that. _

* * *

Later that night I walked into the Mystic Grill to meet my friend Dana. We'd known each other since we were teens and she was one of the very few friends of mine who'd also remained in Mystic Falls. Most of the rest had scattered themselves far and wide across the country after high school.

I scanned the dimly lit room until I finally fixed my sights on a small woman in an emerald green suede jacket with curly red hair sitting with her back to me at the bar. She had a mug of beer in her fingers and a martini glass half full of blue liquid was sitting in front of the empty bar-stool beside her.

"Dana!" I hurried over and greeted her with a smile. "And you ordered my first drink for me already? You're the best!" I exclaimed as I gave her a hug and took a seat.

She broke into a huge smile. "I can't believe I haven't seen you in over two months, 'Lena! I wanna hear all about your new job and everything else. How's your dad doing?"

Two months? Wow, that had to be some sort of record for us. It felt like with every year that went by we saw each other less and less. I didn't like it. I resolved I had to make more time for my friends going forward. I simply couldn't let the people who were important to me slip through the cracks.

"He's doing much better, thanks." I took a drink from my glass. Mmm. She'd ordered me a Blue Hawaii, like I used to love when I was in college. Matt would always tease me that they made my tongue look like a giraffe's and I couldn't suppress a giggle at the thought. Perhaps tonight would end up being a blue-tongued night?

"Awesome," Dana replied. "I have some news I'm dying to share with you, actually." She then proceeded to tell me about this guy she'd met at work a month ago. His name was Ben and she was obviously quite smitten with him. I swear she actually glowed when she talked about this guy. They'd already gone out twice, but hadn't slept together yet and she was hoping that tomorrow night would be their big night.

Her last relationship had been quite a rocky one, with possibly more lows than there'd been highs, so I was really happy she'd finally met someone new. I hoped this guy would turn out to be just what she needed. She couldn't seem to stop talking about him and her excitement was contagious.

Listening to Dana tell me about how good a kisser Ben was made me wish, just for a fleeting second, that I was single and could re-live that magical moment of a first kiss again. Before a couple months ago, the thought that I'd never kiss another man, never be with another man but Matt, hadn't really crossed my mind. Now that fact kept sneaking into my head no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me.

I was finishing my second drink by the time the conversation turned back around to me again.

"But enough about me, sorry! What's up with you? How's your new job going?" Dana asked. I knew she was being polite and trying not to monopolize the conversation with too much talk about her new guy, but after two Blue Hawaiis while she went on about Ben, my tongue was starting to loosen. I really needed to talk to someone and I'd always trusted Dana.

"It's great," I replied, smiling. "This is the first job I've ever had where I actually can't wait to get to work in the morning." How very true that statement was these days.

"Really? Wow. I definitely can't relate. I'm so glad it's working out for you, hon. What are the people there like?"

That was the perfect opening. Should I tell her about Damon or not? There were plenty of arguments for 'not', but I was afraid I might burst if I didn't soon get some of this out of me.

I motioned to the bartender to bring me another drink and began to tell her a bit about my co-workers. I started with the easy ones: Caroline, Bonnie and Alaric. Turned out Dana knew Ric's girlfriend Jenna from the gym. I made a mental note to invite her and Ben when we made plans to meet up for drinks with Alaric and Jenna. I noticed a booth away from the main bar area had opened up, and I dragged Dana back to it. If I was going to spill this stuff, I wanted a bit more privacy.

As I sipped my third blue concoction, I described Katherine, and what I knew of her history with Stefan. Which, of course, led to me talking about Damon, precisely where I suspected our conversation would end up taking me sooner or later.

I had a comfortable buzz going on at this point and I was fully aware that I was grinning from ear to ear as I told her about the CD he'd made me, how he taught me to golf and our afternoon at the golf tournament. When I finished detailing my conversation with him in his office from the day before and how he'd made me install Facebook on his phone and add myself as his first friend, Dana reached out and squeezed my forearm.

Narrowing her eyes at me, she declared, "Elena Gilbert! You're gushing. What the hell's going on? Are things not okay with Matt?"

My cheeks grow even hotter. "No, everything's alright. Matt and I are fine. And I'm not gushing. _You_ were gushing. Your excitement maybe just rubbed off on me, that's all," I protested. No, Dana was totally right; I _had_ been gushing. I knew it.

She gave me a skeptical look that I knew all too well. She'd known me for a long time and she knew exactly what she was hearing. "Spill. Right now. You have a crush on this guy?"

I chewed on my lower lip and looked down at my fingernails for a moment. Then I got my phone out of my purse and opened up Facebook. Damon had uploaded a photo of himself onto his profile, although he'd done little else so far. I pulled it up and silently turned the screen to face her.

She grabbed my phone out of my hand and scrutinized the picture. "Wow. You work with _this_ guy? He's drool-worthy, 'Lena. Damon Salvatore. It says he's married." She glanced back up at me.

"Yeah, he's married to Andie Star. Remember her?"

"You're kidding me? Of course I know who she is – I watch her doing the news most nights over dinner. Huh. I don't think I've talked to her since high school." Dana handed my phone back to me. "So let me get this straight. You, Mrs. Matthew Donovan for the past four years, have a crush on Mr. Andie Star, your sexy co-worker?"

Another gush of heat blossomed over my face. Sweat began to trickle down my spine. Breaking eye contact, I examined my fingernails again. "It's not like that, Dana. We're just friends."

I saw her take a swig of her beer out of the corner of my eye. She laughed and I looked back up at her. "You were gushing and now you're blushing. I'm a frickin' poet." Then her expression turned serious. "Don't lie to me, Elena. You obviously have the hots for this guy. And who could blame you? He's gorgeous."

I smiled ruefully. Shrugging, I relented. "He really is. But don't worry," I assured her, "nothing will ever happen."

"Oh, I know it won't. You'd never do that to Matt. I know you. You can look all you want, as long as you take your lust right back home to your hubbie. Hell, it might even be good for your sex life! God knows after twelve years you could probably use all the help you can get!" She giggled and drained the last swallow from her mug.

I laughed along with her but inside I wasn't so sure it was funny. Truthfully I really hadn't been all that interested in sex with Matt lately. Not just for the past couple of months, either. It was a fact I'd been avoiding admitting to myself for quite some time now. I loved him. I still thought he was attractive, but I didn't really feel any passion or lust toward him any more. I still _wanted_ to feel those things, but they had definitely lessened over time. When Matt kissed me, it no longer made me want to deepen the kiss, to take things further. There was no spark there for me. It made me sad. Now that I had acknowledged it, I felt horrible. Matt deserved so much better than that. I was an awful wife.

Dana got up to get herself a refill, but before she could walk away I stopped her with a touch to her elbow. "It's nothing, really. Forget I said anything to you, okay?"

She gave me a look of more understanding than you'd think a petite woman with three beers in her could manage. "Forget what? And by the way, your tongue is blue." She smiled and leaned over to kiss me on the forehead before heading to the bar. Grabbing a napkin, I rolled my eyes as I wiped off the residue of her pink lip-gloss. God, I'd been missing this girl.

When she returned, the subject moved onto her brother and the financial and emotional crap he'd been putting their parents through lately, but I found I wasn't concentrating very well on what she was saying any more. The alcohol had made me feel fuzzy all over and the only track my mind was on now featured a pair of smoldering blue eyes.

* * *

**Damon**

Elena sat in my office, twisting the pendant on her necklace absentmindedly between her fingers as she talked. Somehow our conversation had turned over the past ten minutes from her telling me how much she loved her job and being able to help us help our clients solve their problems to a story about visiting some of her friends in Richmond last winter and going out clubbing. As she described where they'd gone dancing, I couldn't stop myself from picturing this completely put-together woman in front of me scantily clad in club gear. The very thought of sweet little Elena letting her hair down and showing off her wild side made my cock begin to stir. Down, boy. Now was _so_ not the time.

"I remember those days," I said a bit wistfully. "It's been too long. Back when I was young and single, I used to love going out drinking and dancing." I tactfully stopped myself from adding, 'and picking up hot chicks and fucking their brains out'.

Elena combed the fingers of one hand through her long, dark locks and exhaled a quick breath of air. "The last time I was single I was _way_ too young to go out clubbing."

"Really? How long has it been?" I asked her, surprised.

"Twelve years. I've been with Matt since I was seventeen." She sounded like she was confessing to something that embarrassed her.

"Wow. That's a long time. I can't even imagine," I admitted.

"Why? How long have you been with Andie?"

"Five years. It's the longest relationship I've ever had."

"Did you have many other girlfriends before her?" she wondered.

I chuckled. "Yeah, there were a few. I used to travel a lot more and a lot further for work and I met women all over the place. Around ten years ago or so I lived in Baltimore and I had a girlfriend there for a while."

"Really? I've never been. Did you break up because you had to move back here?"

"Nope. I broke up with her for the same reason I broke up with all of them - because she got too clingy. I was a bit of a player back then. Didn't have any interest in being tied down to just one woman for any length of time. Once they started in with all the neediness, the having to always know where I was when I wasn't with them, the jealousy, the needing to be reassured all the time, I always ended it. Which more often than not was a messy process." I shook my head and laughed softly, looking out the window in memory.

"Then would come the phone calls and messages." I pitched my voice a bit higher and tried to mimic a whiny girl. "Why are you ignoring me, Damon? I love you, Damon. You can't do this to me. I know you _love_ me." I sneered a little on the word 'love' to emphasize my point.

I raised my eyes to study her face. She didn't look like she was disappointed by what I'd said; she just looked interested. Even Alaric would have rolled his eyes at me after _that_ little diatribe and told me what a fucking asshole I was. And he'd have been right. But Elena didn't seem like she was judging. Sighing softly, I said, "Can I tell you something, Elena?"

She nodded, regarding me expectantly.

"I never loved any of them." I confessed. "Not one. Sometimes I just said I loved them back because I knew that's what they wanted to hear from me. I never really loved anyone until I met Andie. She was nothing like the other girls I'd dated. She didn't bullshit or play games. She was confident, she knew what she wanted in life and she went after it. And something just clicked. I admired and respected the hell out of her, and I discovered I wanted her to respect me, too. So I smartened the hell up. My life was pretty fucked up before I met her. I was spiraling and didn't even care if I hit bottom. But she gave me a reason to care. A reason to change."

Elena tilted her head slightly and studied my face as she absorbed all this. As I waited for her to respond, a big fucking wallop of obvious smacked me upside the head. This woman in front of me had most of the characteristics that had always attracted me to my wife. Not only physical beauty, but the intelligence, drive and self-assurance that had made me fall for Andie in the first place. The realization of this simple fact was mind-fuckingly staggering. I understood, in that split-second of awareness, that if circumstances were different, if we were both single, Elena was a woman I could seriously fall for. And that scared the living shit out of me.

"Wow," she replied. "That's an incredible story. She must be your soul mate."

I couldn't restrain a little chuckle at that. "I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure I believe in stuff like soul mates. And relationships change over time, at least ours has. Not just because we became parents, either. We're both…" I paused and pressed my lips together as I tried to come up with the right words. "We're very different people. Which is good, I know. But, it's not always easy. We're not perfect. We argue. We disagree on lots of stuff. I know I drive her crazy sometimes. Hell, I often wonder how she puts up with me."

Shrugging, I added, "But at the end of the day, we make it work."

"Huh. Matt and I never argue," she admitted.

My eyebrows drew together and I looked at her skeptically. "Come on."

"No, really. We don't. He's incredibly laid back. I get upset sometimes, but he just either listens to me vent or leaves me alone until I calm down. He never fights back. Not that I necessarily want him to or anything. It's just…we have a really strange dynamic, I guess." She looked almost apologetic.

To me, no fighting meant no fire. No passion. I opened my mouth to say this to her, but then I thought better of it. I wasn't sure it was a smart idea to continue discussing either of our marriages, at least not right now, and I got the distinct impression she was feeling the same way. Instead I said, "I guess your husband and I are very different. I seem to be able to butt heads with anyone, whether I want to or not. People around here go on the defensive with me real easily."

The corner of Elena's lip twitched a few times, then she grinned. "Can I give you some unsolicited advice, Damon?" she asked me.

"Shoot," I replied.

"I can't speak to your in-person conflicts, having never been witness to one before, but your e-mails often come across as pretty abrupt. Their tone can read as demanding. So, I get why your written communications might rub people the wrong way sometimes." She flushed pink as she told me this, and I sensed she was worried I might not react positively to her words.

"Thanks for being honest with me," I said, as calmly as possible. "Can you give me any examples?"

"Well, you rarely say 'please' and 'thank you', for one thing," she offered. "Some people think you sound like you consider yourself better than them."

"Do they? Okay, duly noted." I was trying to keep my tone and demeanor easy and relaxed so she wouldn't think I was getting pissed off by her words. If anyone else had said this stuff to me, I might have dismissed them off hand. But Elena's thoughts deserved my attention. I took what she had to say seriously.

"Don't you want people to react less defensively to you? They think you have no respect for them." Her voice carried the tiniest hint of reproach.

Straightening my back in my chair, I looked her right in those incredible big brown eyes. "I don't. People have to earn my respect. They all talk about me behind my back and say the only reason I have this job is because of my father. They've treated me like shit for years, Elena. Respect is a two-way street. They don't deserve it."

"So you don't respect anyone here?" Her face became very still and serious.

"Alaric. And now, you. That's it," I admitted.

"Why me?" she asked softly, holding my gaze. Her eyes were shining. I wasn't sure why.

I thought for a moment how best to answer that. "Because you're different," I finally replied.

"Different how?"

"I don't know; you just are." That wasn't totally true. I did know why, or at least I was starting to get a pretty good picture.

Again, Elena studied me so intensely that it felt like she was trying to get inside my head. She nodded. "Good. Having your respect is important to me."

"Why's that?"

"Because we work together, and I need that in my working relationships. But more importantly, I need it from my friends." And she gave me the shyest little smile when she said the word 'friends'. God, she was so fucking beautiful. She really was the whole package. Just for a second, I wondered what kissing those sweet lips of hers would be like. I was treading on very thin ice with these kind of indulgent thoughts and I knew it.

Elena stood up to leave, but she turned back to me as she got to my office door. "Just one more thing before I go, since we seem to be sharing this afternoon."

I gave her a smile and made a little twirly hand motion for her to continue.

"Accountants hate the phrase 'sharpen your pencil'. It's a sure-fire way to get our backs up if you use it. And you're less likely to get the results you want if you make us angry before we even consider your request."

"You're just full of advice today, aren't you?" I chuckled.

"Bye, Damon." She wiggled her fingers at me and walked out of my line of sight. My office felt instantly emptier without her energy filling it.

* * *

I'd just finished tucking Alexis into bed and was sitting in my office responding to some e-mails. The catchy tune of one of the songs on the CD Elena had made for me had been stuck in my head all day and I was absentmindedly tapping out the beat with my foot against the leg of my desk. I needed to check the track listing on the CD insert tomorrow morning when I was in my car to make a note of the song title and artist, so that I could google the guitar chords for it.

By some small miracle Andie was actually home tonight and at the moment was waiting for me to come in and watch some television show in bed with her. I hoped this time it was one with lots of blood and gore and maybe a crime to solve, and not one of those hospital dramas that are more about who's fucking who this week than about saving some secondary character's life.

Before I closed my laptop and went to join her, I logged onto Facebook for a moment just to see what was new with the few friends I'd connected with since Elena had signed me up. There might have been some small desire to check out a picture or two of her on her profile. No big deal - just to see what she looked like when she was relaxing with her friends, not in work-mode. Maybe I could find a candid of her wearing a sexy going-out-clubbing outfit. But that wasn't the reason I'd logged on. Nope.

I noticed that there was a little red box with a number one in it above my private messages icon. When I clicked on it, I saw I had a new message from someone named James Miller. I narrowed my eyes at the screen. Who the fuck was James Miller? I couldn't remember ever meeting anyone by that name.

I opened the note curiously.

"_Dear Damon,_

_I hope I have found the correct Damon Salvatore. Judging by the photo and location you have on your profile, I think I might have finally got it right. Your mother was Isabella Stellini, wasn't she? I know you don't know me, but I've wanted to get in touch with you. I have something I really need to talk to you about. I'll explain more when we speak._

_Please respond to me at jmillertime or call me at 804-991-0012. It's important._

_Yours,_

_James"_

* * *

**A/N** _You guys totally made my day when my day *really* needed making last weekend and every day since. There aren't enough words to thank you all for your kind reviews. Special thanks to afanoftvd for betaing this chapter. She's a fabulous writer - you should all read her fics. If you can, please leave a review in the box below telling me what you think of this chapter. The plot is thickening a bit! haha_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

**Damon**

It was a gloomy, rain-drenched Monday morning five days after I'd received that odd Facebook message. I was sitting in a coffee shop not far from the Lynchburg Regional Airport, sipping a shitty cup of black sludge and waiting for James Miller to show his face and explain what the fuck he had sought me out for. I was already feeling the beginnings of a pressure headache twisting behind my eyeballs and the goddamn cigarette smoke that drifted over from the old ladies gossiping in the smoking section behind me wasn't helping. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly in a chipper mood.

I glanced up as the bell over the door tinkled. A thin man of about fifty stepped inside wearing a dripping gray trench-coat and fedora. His face was lined and narrow and he had a distinct air of apprehension about him. He looked around, and when his eyes met mine, I understood immediately that this was the man who had contacted me. At the sight of me, a wide smile lit up his entire demeanor.

"Damon Salvatore?" he asked, approaching the booth in which I sat. His eyes, which were a shade of blue eerily similar to my own, burned with a curious emotion. When I nodded, he slid onto the bench seat opposite me, unbuttoned his coat and doffed the fedora. His hair was dark and messy, also much like my own, although threaded with many streaks of silver. My stomach tightened in a weird queasy sensation as I studied his craggy, square-jawed face. Did I know this man after all?

Reaching a hand across me to me, he said, "James Miller. It's great to finally meet you, Damon." His grip was firm and confident.

I signaled to the waitress, who'd been keeping a close eye on me since I arrived, and she brought Mr. Miller over a cup of coffee and freshened up my own. Once she'd returned behind the order counter, I looked back at him. I had no interest in wasting time with pleasantries. "You knew my mother?" I asked bluntly.

"Very well," he replied, pressing his lips together. "I was devastated when I heard of her passing."

I nodded, accepting his belated condolences, and waited for him to get to the point. His handshake may have been confident but the look in those strangely familiar blue eyes right now was anything but. "Damon, I don't know an easy way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna spit it right out. I'm your father."

My eyes widened in shock, though somewhere inside I think I had known from the moment he'd sat down. It wasn't like me at all to take a stranger's word at face value, yet I understood instantly that this man was telling me the truth. My gut tightened and for a few long, long seconds I was at a rare loss for words. Then I managed to get out just one. "How?"

He smiled at me and sighed. "You believe me. Thank God. Because I'd be willing to take a blood-test if you didn't." His relieved expression dropped away and he took a tentative sip from his steaming mug, grimacing at the taste. Raising his eyes to meet mine again, he said, "I can see her in you. She was so beautiful. And I loved her so much. But we were really young, Damon. Young and stupid. Especially me."

I remained quiet, waiting patiently for him to continue. He seemed to be searching for the right words.

"I've got no good excuse for what I did. When Bella told me she was pregnant, I freaked out. We were still just kids, ourselves. I was only nineteen, in my first year at college - I wasn't ready to be anyone's dad. I was barely responsible enough to take care of myself, let alone a wife and child. I loved your mother more than anything in the world, but I wasn't strong enough to be there for her when she needed me most. For a while I tried, but the closer to her due date it got, the more panicked I became. I was a coward and I took the easy way out. I'm not proud to admit it, but I ran scared. I left her. I left you both. And I've been sorry as hell for it ever since." He breathed out the last sentence all at once like a repressed sigh, finally able to be released.

"I heard later that she'd married Guiseppe Salvatore and that he had raised you as his own son. I figured it was probably for the best, so I never contacted her again, never met you. I stayed away. I thought you'd have a better life never knowing the truth. Even after I found out about Bella…passing."

"What changed?" I asked quietly, trying to maintain my cool and look skeptical, but pretty damn sure I wasn't succeeding on either front. I believed every word this man was saying, indubitably. Which surprised the living shit out of me, because blind trust was seriously out of character.

He took a deep breath. "I did. I've been trying to convince myself for a long time to just leave things be, to not throw a monkey-wrench into your life all these years later. But I got some news a few months ago. I don't mean to cast a pallor of gloom over our little father and son reunion, Damon, but I don't want to lie to you. I found out I'm dying. I only have maybe six months left. And I knew I needed to meet you and tell you the truth while I still had a small chance to try to make things right between us."

My brows shot up at his second stunning revelation. "I'm sorry to hear that," I murmured. I took another swig of my coffee, now lukewarm and stagnant. Perhaps I should have said more, expressed more shock or dismay, but I simply didn't have it in me right then.

I felt numb inside. I was fully aware I should be feeling something: sadness at his most recent terrible news, anger probably, for this man walking out on my mom, joy at having this opportunity handed to me to get to know my real father and more about my mother, even relief at understanding a little bit now why Guiseppe had always been such a dick to me. But I felt none of those things, at least not at the moment.

"I know it's a lot to take in," he offered in a low voice. "I don't expect you to embrace this massive curveball with ease. It'll take you some time." He reached in his jacket pocket, pulled out a business card and placed it on the table in front of me. It was for a nation-wide insurance company, Buffalo office. He was a salesman, too. I shook my head in disbelief. "I'll be in town for another couple days. Give me a call at that number if you decide you want to see me again."

"Got it," I replied, in a hollow voice. It felt like there was a python wrapping its coils around my throat.

He stood up to leave, shoving his charcoal gray fedora back down to rest on his ears. Before he went, he turned back to me. "And Damon?" With some difficultly I lifted my gaze back to those blue eyes so like my own. "I won't be offended if I don't hear from you. In fact, I'd totally understand."

Then James Miller, my _father_, walked out the door. And I sat there for another full hour, drinking offensive-tasting brown liquid and staring at that little white rectangle in my fingers as the ceiling fan hummed overhead.

* * *

I didn't say a word to Andie about any of it that night when she crawled into bed beside me. I was still processing everything and still didn't know what I wanted to do with what I'd learned. I couldn't decide if I wanted to see him again, get to know him, maybe even grow to care about him, only to lose him like I had my mother. I didn't know if I wanted him to meet Alexis and Andie, and them come to accept and love him only to have him ripped away. But if I didn't contact him again, now that I knew the truth, how could I ever live with myself? No matter how I looked at it, it seemed like a double-edged sword. So I just tossed and turned and stewed on it.

The next day at work I had a bitch of a time focusing on anything for any length of time. I kept pulling out James' business card and rubbing it between my fingers, then putting it away.

Eventually I just couldn't stand it anymore. My head was gonna fucking explode if I didn't talk to someone about this. I picked up the phone and quickly punched in Elena's extension before I could change my mind.

The sound of her voice immediately soothed one or two of my frazzled nerves. "Good morning, Damon."

"You know my extension off by heart?" I asked, knowing the digits, but not my name, would have appeared in her call-display window. I couldn't hold back a little smirk at that. She'd memorized my extension.

I heard a small laugh. "Yes. How was your weekend?"

"Revelatory. Do you have time to pop over at some point today? I'll…I'll explain in person." I replied, not able to completely cover the edge in my voice.

She didn't ask any questions. She didn't make any excuses or put me off. She just said, "Be right there." And hung up.

And about sixty seconds later, she was standing in front of me looking at me with a concerned expression. "What's going on, Damon? You look stressed."

* * *

**Elena**

As soon as I heard the strained tone in Damon's voice when he called me, I'd dropped everything and come running. I was pretty sure he hadn't slept last night. His face was drawn and tense. His hair was even messier than usual. He'd obviously been running his fingers through it over and over.

"Could you close the door behind you, please?" he asked me quietly. I couldn't help but notice he'd said 'please'. Frowning slight, I did as he asked, then sat down, crossing my legs. My brows drew together as I looked at him expectantly. He pursed his lips tightly together and turned to stare out the window. Patiently I waited for him to talk.

Finally I prompted lightly, "Damon?"

He sighed. "Something happened yesterday. I haven't told anyone about it and I need to purge to someone."

And he wanted that someone to be me? I was incredibly flattered that he already trusted me enough to want to confide in me.

"You can tell me anything. Nothing you say will leave this office, I promise," I assured him.

So he told me, quietly and sometimes haltingly, about the strange Facebook message he'd gotten last week, and about meeting the man who claimed to be his real father yesterday. It was obvious that he believed this James Miller was telling him the truth.

"Wow. That's incredible. How are you handling it?" That had to be one hell of a bombshell to get dropped on you. I couldn't even imagine. Everything he'd always believed was true his entire life, he'd now learned was a lie.

"I think I'm still in shock."

"Are you gonna call him?" I wondered.

"I haven't decided yet." He was absentmindedly fiddling with the business card as we spoke. It flashed white between his fingers.

"I know it's not my business to ask, but I can't help but wonder - why haven't you told Andie yet?" The question had been weighing on my mind since the moment he said that he hadn't mentioned anything to anyone else about it. This was huge information. I would've thought his wife would be the very first person he'd want to share it with.

"There's more,' he said matter-of-factly. Then he told me that James Miller was dying. Damon wasn't sure he wanted to bring this man into his family's life just to have him ripped away again. After what he'd gone through with his mother when he was a child, I totally understood why. I couldn't fathom what it would be like to finally meet my real father and then be told I would only have a few months with him. No wonder hewas so torn about what to do.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

His brows shot up and his eyes met mine with a surprised look in them. For a few seconds he just stared at me. "I don't know," he finally admitted.

I wanted to reach out and touch him in the worst way. He seemed like a man that was craving human contact right now. But I wasn't close enough for arms reach and getting up would mean premeditated touching, which I knew could be a very bad idea, so I made myself to stay put. I literally had to sit on my hands to keep them still.

"What would you do, Elena? Do _you_ think I should call?"

"You really want my advice?"

He nodded, his face serious.

I considered the situation for a moment. Then I took a deep breath. "I'd call him. Forgive him, if you can, and take advantage of these last few months. Let Alexis meet her grandfather. Don't let this opportunity slip away, Damon."

He was silent once more. He held my gaze but his expression was unreadable.

Finally I smiled tentatively at him. "Was I out of line?" I asked. "I'm sorry if I was."

His eyes widened. "No! Not at all. I asked for your opinion and you gave it to me. And you're right. You're totally right. I'm gonna call him. And I'm gonna tell Andie all about him tonight."

"I think you're making the right choice," I said, standing up to reach for the door. It wasn't a good idea for us to be alone in his office with the door closed for any longer than absolutely necessary. Neither of us needed any rumours to start spreading around here.

Just as my fingers touched the doorknob, Damon stood up and closed the distance between us. He put his hand on my shoulder, and I looked up into his eyes, my heart suddenly pounding so loudly I was sure we both could hear it. Heck, Stefan could probably hear it from two offices down.

I held my breath as he stared at me. His face was less than a foot from my own. He was so close. Too close. I could see the black outline around the circumference of his baby blue eyes. I could count every dark lash that framed their lower edges.

Whatever this crazy connection was that we had between us, it was now thrumming at full resonance. My throat was so dry; I didn't even think I could speak as I waited to see what he would do. The skin of my shoulder shot up several thousand degrees where he touched me.

_Say something! Do something! Anything! Please don't just look at me like that, or I'm gonna lose my mind!_

"Thank you, Elena," he said quietly, breaking my thrall as he dropped his hand back to his side. "I really appreciate you being here for me this morning. I really needed to just talk it out."

"You're welcome," I murmured, the tremor in my voice seeming obvious. "That's what friends are for." I opened the door wide, and turned back to him.

He was gazing at me again. He seemed to have developed a habit of doing that lately. It was incredibly disconcerting. Yet I already loved the intensity of his focus when it was directed at me. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again. Finally he smiled. "Have a great rest of your day."

"You, too, Damon," I replied. But I really wanted to know what he had just stopped himself from saying to me.

* * *

When I got back to my cubicle, a stern-faced Katherine was leaning against the edge of my desk with a thick case-file in her arms, obviously waiting for me.

"You've been gone a while," she observed, looking at me pointedly. I wondered if she knew I was returning from the Marketing department and I realized with chagrin that I had no files or documents in my hands to explain my being there this time.

"Sorry," I replied. "I got caught up in a discussion. What can I do for you?" Totally true. Katherine was very observant; I suspected she'd be able to tell if I lied.

"A discussion with Damon Salvatore?" she asked. The temperature around us seemed to drop a degree or two. How had she known I'd just been in his office? Someone had obviously seen me go inside and shut the door behind me. Frowning, I realized just how lightning fast word could travel around this place.

I flushed. I couldn't help it. "Yes. But I'm here now. What do you need from me, Katherine?"

She straightened up and took a step toward me, so that we were less than two feet apart. Her deep brown eyes drilled into mine. I could've sworn she was about to say more on the topic of me being in Damon's office, but she didn't. "I wanted to talk to you about this quote for Gonzalez Barristers you did yesterday. Stefan came to me with more details."

We went over the calculations together and she showed me where we were able to reduce the price further. I was left with the distinct feeling I'd screwed up, although I knew for a fact that I hadn't. The reduction we just made came from something Katherine learned about after the fact, and my original quote was as accurate as it could have been with the information I'd had at the time. Her demeanor was dismissive as she gathered up the file and strode away. I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to being treated like just another peon by my direct manager. But I was still determined to impress her, even if it nearly killed me trying.

* * *

On my drive home, my mind was tumbling over my earlier conversation and close encounter with Damon, when my cell phone rang. As I was currently stopped at a red light, I pulled it out of my bag to answer it.

"Hey, 'Lena," Matt greeted me happily.

"Hey."

"Just calling to let you know I won't be home until about six. Put on something pretty and be ready to go out, kay?"

"What? Why?" I was momentarily confused. Dress up? Go out?

"Just because. It's been a while and I feel like taking you out and wining and dining you. We can go out dancing after, if you want."

The light turned green, but I barely registered it. "Really?" I said, in a surprised tone.

"Why not, right? See you later. Love you." He hung up before I could respond. I stared blankly down at the phone in my hand. The car behind me honked its horn and I startled. Tossing my phone on the passenger seat, I quickly hit the gas.

Matt and I hadn't gone out to a nice dinner just the two of us since the night I found out I'd gotten the job at BWS and we'd had a reason to celebrate. We hadn't gone out dancing for much longer than that – in fact Matt didn't even really like to dance. He'd only ever gone with me in the past when we were with a group, because he knew how much I loved it.

Normally I was the one who initiated and organized date nights, but I hadn't done much of that over the past several months. Not even sure why, but there was always something else that came up, or I'd had other things on my mind. I'd just let it slide. Now he wanted to take me out and spoil me tonight, for no apparent reason that I could think of, other than he loved me. And I'd spent the majority of the day thinking about another man.

Guilt and disgust with myself overwhelmed me, and I pulled over to the side of the road. I leaned back onto my headrest and put both hands over my eyes. God, what the hell was I doing? I was not this kind of person. I married Matt because he was an amazing guy and I was lucky he'd fallen in love with me. No matter what attraction I might currently feel for Damon, I still loved my husband.

My throat closed up and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I had to gasp for air as they overflowed and began to stream down my face. I couldn't swipe them away fast enough. Low sobs erupted from my throat. This was not me. I couldn't lose sight of who I was. I couldn't let myself fall for another man. I couldn't do that to Matt. And Matt most definitely didn't deserve it.

I hadn't had a good cry in a really long time. I'd teared up with worry when my dad had his heart attack three months ago, but not a full-blown bawling session. I tended to not lose it emotionally unless I had a damn good reason to. The guilt that overwhelmed me at the moment seemed to have sparked something deep within me, though. I wasn't wailing in agony, but I just couldn't stop the tears from flowing. For at least ten full minutes I sat there, soaking through tissue after tissue and gasping softly as Radiohead playing in the background.

Then I forced myself to mentally pull on my big-girl panties. I swiped the last of the wetness off my abraded cheeks, and, sniffling occasionally, drove the rest of the way home. I was ashamed of myself for letting this happen, for having feelings for someone else. This just wasn't the woman who I knew I was, or who I wanted to be. What Matt deserved was a wife who gave him all the love and attention he needed, and I decided I was going to be that woman again for him. I was going to clean myself up, make myself beautiful and go out and have a great time with my husband tonight.

And I vowed I wasn't going to allow Damon Salvatore to slip into my thoughts unbidden anymore.

Turned out it was just another vow that I'd end up breaking.

* * *

**A/N** _Thank you to afanoftvd for betaing this chapter for me and a HUGE MASSIVE thank you to all of you who have taken the time to leave me a review and/or add a favourite or read and review any of my other DE canon stories. I appreciate you all more than you know. Pretty please let me know your thoughts by leaving a review in the box below? xo  
_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

**Damon**

At five o'clock, I powered down my computer, fished that annoyingly distracting little business card out of my jacket pocket for probably the hundredth time today, and picked up my phone. My finger hesitated over the numbers, and I put it back down again. Did I really want my family to meet James? What if I just spent some time with him myself over the next few months and kept the secret from them? They wouldn't have to know he ever existed. They wouldn't be able to get to know him, possibly grow to care about him, and therefore would be spared the grief when he died. It was too late for me, I understood that now, but I could still save them the pain of losing him right after they'd gotten him into their lives.

I remembered Elena's words from earlier: _Don't let this opportunity slip away._ I knew I'd regret it if Alexis never got to meet her grandfather, and if he never got the chance to know her before he passed away. That wouldn't be fair to either of them. They deserved to know each other and I refused to be the one who prevented it. Sighing, I picked the receiver back up and punched in the number before I could change my mind again.

He answered on the first ring. "James Miller." His voice was calm, but had a slightly rough-around-the-edges timbre, like maybe he used to be a pack-a-day smoker, but quit some time ago.

"It's me," I said simply.

"Damon." He was obviously relieved. "So glad you decided to call."

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Yeah. Not sure what I'm supposed to say."

"What do you want to say? If you want to tell me what a horrible coward I was for not doing right by your mom and you, go ahead. I deserve it."

Sighing, I replied, "Nope."

"Okay." He got quiet as he waited to learn what I was calling about. I wondered if he was fiddling with something, which was an annoying little habit I had a tendency to do when I was under stress.

"How much longer are you staying in town?" I asked him.

"Do you want me to stay?"

I paused for a second or two. "Would you like to meet your granddaughter?"

"More than anything," he replied immediately. I could hear the smile in his voice.

We arranged a time for him to come to the house a couple of evenings later for dinner, and I hung up. What the fuck had I just gotten us into? On one hand, I was curious as hell about this man who had contributed half of my DNA. On the other, I was pretty damn sure I'd now just set my family up for future pain. Andie was gonna be in for a massive goddamn shock tonight when I told her all this. I wondered if she'd understand why I didn't say anything to her when I first found out.

As I stepped out my door, I glanced up the hallway toward my brother's office. It was dark inside. Seemed like most of the staff in our department had already left for the day. I thought about our little altercation after the golf tournament. Maybe now would be an opportune time for me to throw on my Sherlock Holmes hat and do some sleuthing.

I slipped into his office and closed the door quietly behind me. Immediately I went around behind his desk and started pulling drawers all the way out, looking into the backs of them for hidden treasures. I wish I could tell you I didn't find anything. Unfortunately, it didn't take me long to score. Middle wide shallow drawer, all the way in the back inside an old plastic film canister, I found the blister pack of small yellow tablets. Two of the six were already missing. I fucking knew it! Sighing in exasperation, I slipped them into the same inside pocket as James' business card.

Just as I did, I heard the soft snick of the door opening behind me. Whichever God was in charge of my fate, they obviously hated me. My timing had just been the worst lately. A glaring Stefan stood facing me, his green eyes flashing with fury.

"What the ever-loving fuck are you doing, Damon?" he asked, in that deceptively calm voice that meant he was about to lose his shit on me.

No point in lying. I'd been caught red-handed. "Snooping through your desk drawers. What does it look like?" I snarked. "Seems I hit the jackpot, too."

Reaching into my jacket, I whipped out the blister pack and waved it at him. "At work, Stefan? Really? How can you be so goddamn stupid? Did I get _all_ the brains in the family?"

He dove at me, trying to grab the pills from my hand. I jumped backward and crammed them into my pants pocket as I went. Unfortunately the back of my knee caught on the edge of his swivel chair and I fell flat on my ass. Fucking Fate. Vindictive little bugger.

Before I knew it, Stefan was on top of me. His face was a seething portrait of rage. I tried to examine his eyes as they seared holes into me. Nope, no pin-point pupils this time. He wasn't stoned. Which was good, but also kind of bad. It meant he was fully focused and probably ready and able to beat the shit out of me if I didn't get him off me and back up onto my feet ASAP.

I struggled to free my wrists from beneath his knees. Just as I got one loose, he drew back a fist and sucker-punched me right in the gut. All my air wheezed out in a rush. Motherfuck, that hurt! Stefan just grinned that stupid tight-lipped grin of his and hit me in the stomach again. What strength I had left abandoned me and I groaned in pain.

"Get the fuck off me!" I gasped out.

He was livid. "Stay." Punch. "Out." Punch. "Of." Punch. "My." Punch. "Life." Punch. None to the face. All to the belly. Little shit knew exactly what he was doing. My midsection felt like it was in flames. Thank God for my tight abdominal muscles providing some protection to my inner organs. I was no doctor but I knew he could've done some damage with all those goddamn hits to the gut.

Stefan delved into my pants pocket and retrieved the pills, popping them casually inside his own shirt pocket as if some random person noticing them sticking out meant nothing at all to him. "I don't need your interference. I don't need your fake concern. I don't need _you_, brother. Got it?" He lifted himself slowly off me. I just stared up at him, panting and trying to focus my vision. My lungs weren't drawing enough oxygen to form words around the red haze of pain right now.

As he stepped backward toward the door, I managed to drag myself up to a sitting position and somehow found my voice again. "You should be glad I help you, asshole," I panted. "Since we're not even really brothers." I sounded exactly like I'd just gotten the shit kicked out of me, but he heard every motherfucking word.

Turning to look back at me, he said incredulously, "What the fuck are you talking about, Damon? Not brothers? If only I could be so lucky."

"Consider yourself lucky then, dick. You and I are only half brothers. I met my real dad yesterday."

All the anger and resentment fell away from his face. He gaped at me. Quite literally – his jaw damn near touched his chest. Then his brows knit together. "You're full of shit," he scoffed.

Hauling myself up, I fell heavily into his chair. My gut hurt like a motherfucker. I was gonna be black and blue tomorrow. And I really did not owe this douchebag any sort of explanation. But I told him what had happened anyway.

He sat down abruptly onto the corner of his desk, pills and punches forgotten for the moment. "Are you gonna tell Dad you know?"

Of course. Let's worry about Guiseppe's reaction right now. That's obviously the most important thing to focus on at the moment. I honestly figured the man would dance a jig once he found out I knew the truth. No more having to pretend he sired me any longer. It'll probably be the happiest day he's had in years.

"I don't know, Stefan. I don't know anything yet. Probably I'll tell him, yeah. Just not sure when. Hell, I haven't even told Andie yet," I admitted.

His eyes widened. "I'm the first one you've told?" he asked, surprised. Just for a second there I saw a flicker of my brother – my real brother, the one who used to idolize me and who used to be my friend, hiding deep in his eyes.

I saw no benefit to telling him that I'd already confessed all this to Elena earlier. I simply replied, "Don't make me sorry I did."

"I won't. And speaking of sorrys…" he trailed off, looking guiltily at me.

"Shut up," I said, attempting a small grin. "And give me those fucking pills. I shouldn't have to explain. You know damn well why."

The corner of his mouth twitched and for a moment I thought he might refuse this time. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled them out. Tossing them onto his desk in front of me without a word, he turned and walked out the door.

It took me another five or six minutes to feel well enough to walk without needing to clutch onto the walls for support, but then, slowly and carefully, I did the same.

* * *

**Elena**

I lay in bed, staring at the clock and waiting for it to read seven o'clock and time to get up for work. I'd turned the alarm off a while ago, knowing it wouldn't be needed this morning and figuring I could save Matt the annoyance. He snored softly beside me, oblivious to the sunshine streaming past the edge of the curtains.

We'd had a nice, relaxing evening out on Friday night. He'd taken me to Fratelli's, a new Italian place just on the outskirts of Mystic Falls. We'd had a few glasses of wine, a fabulous dinner and even shared some sweet tiramisu for dessert. We'd gabbed about everything from Dana and Ben, to my sister-in-law Vickie's new man, to all the plans Matt had for his students when school started up again shortly. It was all very comfortable.

After dinner, I'd decided not to subject him to going out dancing, even if he was willing. Instead we'd gone home, caught a movie on Netflix and snuggled in bed. And in case you're wondering, yes, we did make love. I tried really hard to get into it, too. I did my best to block out Damon's face from my mind and focus solely on Matt. I knew Matt. I knew just what he liked in bed. I could be the woman he needed me to be.

But later, after he had rolled over and gone to sleep, I'd just stared at the ceiling. My stomach ached. My mind ached. There was just something missing. I felt hollow.

Finally I'd just gotten up, went downstairs, turned on the television at low volume and wrapped myself in a blanket on the couch. Then I'd simply let my mind unclench. I'd given in and allowed myself think about Damon again. Fantasize about Damon, to be specific. I'd closed my eyes and imagined his voice whispering sweet words in my ear, felt his fingers trail across my skin instead of my own.

I'd muffled my gasps in the blanket as I'd brought myself to release thinking about the wrong pair of blue eyes, the wrong set of lips, the wrong man. And I'd fallen asleep in the rec room still feeling discontented, but exhausted and unwilling to let in a single second more guilt that night.

But I'd been feeling plenty of guilt ever since.

I sighed and threw the covers back. Monday. My heart skipped a beat in excitement. I used to dread Mondays. Now they brought with them the chance of seeing Damon, and I looked forward to them with eager anticipation.

Since Matt was still out, I quietly grabbed a navy dress from my closet and took it with me into the bathroom to shower and get ready. I stared at my face in the mirror, examining the dark circles that plagued me. My eyes were red and exceptionally itchy, probably from a combination of late summer allergies and nowhere near enough sleep. Contacts were not going to be an option this morning. It was going to have to be a rare glasses day.

I could hear birds chirping cheerfully outside the kitchen window as I finished up my toast and coffee. There was still no sign of my husband. Oh well. He was a teacher – he had every right to sleep late over the summer and I tried not to begrudge it. Labor Day was fast approaching and he'd be back to the grind soon enough. Summer was nearly over. I had a little pang of melancholy at the thought.

When I got into the office, my department was still dark and silent. I flicked on the overhead lights before making my way to my cubicle. It was unusual for me to be the first one in. Bonnie typically beat me by ten or fifteen minutes, but her desk was still empty this morning.

As I was going through my messages a few minutes later, I heard Alaric's footsteps behind me.

"Mornin', Elena. You holding down the fort all by yourself?"

I smiled widely as I turned around. "Good morning, Ric. Yep, Bonnie must be running late this morning."

He raised his eyebrows as he looked me over. "Glasses? That's a new look for you," he observed.

Flushing a bit, I shrugged. "Yeah. Haven't been sleeping all that well lately. My eyes were too sore for contacts this morning. Hence, my old glasses."

"It works. You've got that hot librarian thing going for you." He gave me an over-exaggerated leer and I couldn't help wondering what Damon would think of my 'new' look if we saw each other today.

"You think?" I laughed and flipped my hair over one shoulder as I batted my lashes at him.

"Very Fred from 'Angel'." He chuckled. "Hmm. Don't tell Jenna I said that to you."

I shook my head and smiled. "Our secret. I can't tell her anything if I never get to meet her, though. We still have to set up a date for drinks at the Grill."

Ric's grin grew wider. "Thanks for the reminder. I'll check with her tonight and get back to you with what works for us. Deal?"

"Deal."

He disappeared into his office and I went back to work, still smiling to myself as I thought about the compliment he'd just paid me about one of my favourite actresses. Maybe the glasses weren't so bad after all.

The morning flew by quickly. There was a big influx of new requests that needed pricing on a rush basis and both Tyler and Hayley were on vacation this week, so we were short-staffed. Everyone was focused on their workload and not chatting much. I was surrounded by the sounds of keyboards and calculators clicking away, and pencils scratching. Every now and then I'd get up from my cubicle for breaks to stretch my legs, making my own trips to the file room to retrieve case files instead of asking April to deliver them to my desk.

Bonnie and I worked through our lunch, and by the time three o'clock rolled around the backlog of requests had reduced to a manageable level. My brain was feeling kind of fried from so much focusing, and possibly from wearing my glasses all day when I wasn't used to them. I pushed them up onto my forehead and rubbed my temples. Taking a gulp from my insulated water bottle, I contemplated how to make the next hour disappear so I could go home and relax in my back yard with a cold glass of white wine.

My gallant knight saved me with a phone call.

"You busy?" Damon asked, as always right to the point.

"Yeah, but I'm ready for a break." I was smiling again, my mood already improved.

"I've got a few minutes to spare. Come on over."

It was all the invite I needed today. "See you in a minute."

I popped into the washroom first to check out my reflection. My hair was disheveled and frazzled looking. I combed it with my fingers, trying to flatten the loose strands back down. Finally I gave up on it, reapplied my lip-gloss, examined myself once more, and gave my appearance a passing grade. Hot librarian, huh? At the moment I thought I looked hot in the literal sense more than the figurative

I splashed some cold water on my cheeks in an attempt to reduce my flush, took a deep breath and made my way to Damon's office.

* * *

As I sat down across from him, I noticed Damon studying me more intensely than usual. I shifted in my seat and began to twist the pendant on my necklace. Such focused attention from him often made me feel a bit too under the magnifying glass.

"What?" I asked, smiling self-consciously.

"You're wearing glasses." He was still staring. His pupils were slightly dilated. If I didn't know better I'd swear there was a hint of lust swirling in those baby blues.

Heat rose to my cheeks. "Yes. Itchy eyes this morning. Contacts weren't an option."

"I like it," he declared in low voice. That voice was pure sex. All the muscles in my lower belly tightened up at his words.

"Alaric told me this morning I was working the 'hot librarian' look," I joked, trying to lighten the thickening atmosphere around us.

It worked. Damon laughed out loud. "He called you that?"

I nodded, grinning.

"I would have gone with 'sexy secretary', but okay. That works, too." There was definitely something in his expression. Was I just transferring my own attraction to him, wanting to read something that wasn't really there? He was kidding around with me, but his words made me burn from the inside out. I was seriously overheating. Was the air conditioning not working in here this afternoon? Looking down at the unneeded file in my lap, I briefly considered fanning myself with it. Time for a subject change.

"Did you call him?" I asked abruptly, referring of course to James.

"Yep," he replied. "He's coming over tonight for dinner."

"Really? That's great! I bet he can't wait to meet Alexis. How did Andie react when you told her about him?"

Damon's expression grew serious. "She was happy for me, and excited to meet him. Until I told her he was dying. Then she decided it'd be best if he didn't meet Alexis."

I frowned. "What did you say to that?"

"I told her the same thing you said to me. That it wasn't fair to let the opportunity slip away, for any of us. I told her I'd regret it if I didn't let Alexis meet her grandfather and she'd end up resenting me later for it. Andie said it'd be too hard on Alexis to meet him only to lose him. I refused to budge on the matter. Tempers flared. I stood my ground. She finally gave in. Pretty sure everything'll be fine tonight, though." He sighed and looked away. "She can't protect our daughter from stuff like that. It's important that Alexis meet him. And it's not like Andie's the greatest judge of what's the best thing for her anyway."

"Pardon?" I asked. He'd kind of muttered that last line, and I wondered if I had heard him correctly.

"Sorry. She just…" He stopped and sighed again. He seemed to be debating whether to answer me or not. I was just about to tell him it was fine if we dropped the subject, when he replied. "It feels like she puts her job over her family, Elena. She works late nights a lot. She doesn't spend enough time with Alexis. It just gets to me sometimes, that's all."

Whoa. He was sharing some really personal stuff with me today. I thought about what he'd just revealed for moment, unsure how best to reply. Finally I said, "That's why my mom doesn't think I should start a family yet. She says I need to put my career first right now, and she knows I'd never be able to do that once I had a child."

"Is that what you want? To wait?" he asked, studying my face once again.

"It's complicated. But I'm not ready to have kids yet," I replied. Of those two things I was very sure.

"What about your husband?"

"What about him?"

"Does he want to start a family now?"

I chewed my bottom lip. "Um. Yeah. Yeah, he's ready."

"And your career's really what's holding you back?"

"Yes. No. Sort of. I don't know." I sighed. This was a conversation I really wasn't comfortable having with Damon at the moment - someday perhaps, but not right now. I shifted in my seat again and declined to elaborate.

"Have I hit a nerve?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes in concern. "Sorry, Elena. None of my business, I know."

I just shrugged apologetically. "No, it's fine. Another time maybe."

Damon nodded in understanding. With a small sigh, he reverted to the previous topic. "No matter how much Andie claims she gets it that Alexis needs her around, she really doesn't. She still gets home after our daughter's asleep most nights. She keeps assuring me things will get better soon, but nothing ever changes. One of these days something's gonna give and she might not like how it all shakes down when it does. I just think, at twenty-nine, that she should be at a place in her life where she can understand the need for better career and family balance."

He paused and refocused on me. A smile reappeared where that deep frown had just been. "But enough somber talk. Sorry I keep bitching to you about my family issues. I really shouldn't. James is coming over later and I think it's gonna be a good night. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees Alexis. Everyone says she's the spitting image of my mother."

I smiled back, both grateful that he so gracefully let me escape confessing my own issues and stunned that he'd chosen to share such personal stuff so openly with me again today. "It's no problem, Damon. You can tell me anything. I don't mind. You can trust me."

Standing up to make my exit, I continued, "You'll have to tell me how it goes tonight. Don't forget to take photos.

"I will. I'll e-mail you some if you like?"

"That would be great." I paused and added, "Hey, for some reason I thought Andie was a year ahead of us in school. I didn't realize we were the exact same age."

He stared right into my eyes. He was focusing one hundred percent of his attention on me again. Prolonged direct eye contact with this man did crazy things to my insides. Hypnotized, I couldn't look away from his incredible blue eyes. The temperature in the room was skyrocketing even before he spoke.

"I obviously have a thing for younger women." He delivered that line straight, with no hint of joking and he did not break our connection.

Any skill I had for grace under pressure flew right out the window around Damon. I swear I nearly snorted snot right out my nose! One hand flew to my face to try to conceal my reaction. He did _not_ just say that! My stomach twisted and my throat went dry. I could've sworn my face was literally on fire.

_You can't say stuff like that to me. You can't. You just can't. _This was on repeat in my mind.

"I…um…I'd better get back to my desk," I replied falteringly, once I could speak again. I knew I couldn't stay there a single second longer and pretend to keep my cool. If I tried to carry on any more conversation, I'd surely end up embarrassing myself, or worse, both of us.

"Have a great night tonight, Damon," I blurted, as I dashed out the door. I thought I saw a confused expression flitter across on his face, but he still shot me a disarming smile just before I turned away.

This man was going to be the death of me.

* * *

**A/N** _There aren't enough words to thank you all for your reviews and favourites! You guys rock my world. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please consider leaving a review? Next chapter brings Katherine back into things. Have a great week!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

* * *

**Damon**

Andie got home nearly on the dot of six, only thirty minutes later than she'd promised, so I guess I shouldn't complain. James had already been at our house for nearly an hour by then. He and Alexis were playing Barbies in the family room while I fixed dinner. Turned out James had a surprisingly good falsetto.

I'd introduced him to her as Grandpa James. She already had a Nonno, Giuseppe, and Andie's mom and dad preferred to be called Nana and Papa, so I didn't think she'd be confused adding in a third grandfather. She wasn't. To my amused surprise, she warmed up to him quickly and of course he fell instantly in love with her. Watching the two of them get to know each other did strange things to my heart. And to the corners of my eyes. At one point I had to walk away and leave them alone to regain my composure. While in the kitchen, I tried to keep an ear on their activities. Her childish giggles never failed to elicit a wide smile from me and I could just about picture the matching one on James' face.

It all went off without a hitch. Alexis was too young to ask uncomfortable questions about why she'd never met him before, and he was so good with her that it was easy to tell he'd had experience with small children. It crossed my mind that I had no idea if I had any step-siblings or nieces and nephews. My entire concept of my own family was changing faster than I could wrap my head around it.

Later, once we'd finally gotten Alexis settled down and asleep, I poured some of the good single malt scotch and the three of us sat down for some grown-up talk.

"You're from Buffalo, right?" Andie asked him, opening the conversation with something easy.

"Yes. I've lived there for the past twenty-two years. Spent some time in New York City and Richmond before that."

"Upstate New York is so beautiful. We spent a weekend in the Finger Lakes district when we were first dating, didn't we Damon?" She flashed me a smile and I nodded.

"So, James, are you married?" she asked. I was thankful she had so much experience interviewing people. She was an expert at digging out information and I was curious to find out as much as I could about this man.

"I was. I'm not anymore," he answered, carefully choosing his words. I took that to mean he was divorced.

"Kids? Grandkids?"

He glanced at me. "Yes, I have a daughter. Her name is Miriam and she's twenty-six. She's not married yet. Alexis will probably be the only grandchild I'll ever know. I have to thank you both again so much for allowing me this opportunity." He smiled fondly when he mentioned Alexis' name. I got that weird clenching feeling in my chest again.

Andie slid me a sideways look but I ignored it. I knew she still wasn't at all thrilled about Alexis getting to know James and then having to deal with losing him in a few months. "You don't need to thank us," I said. "I'm just glad we were able to do this." I gestured between us.

"Me, too," James replied simply.

"Does Miriam know about me?" I wondered. The idea of having a sister out in the world somewhere who I'd never even heard of before boggled my mind a little. I wondered if she looked like James? Or anything like me?

His forehead creased. "Yes, she knows. I told her when I first found out I was sick. I wanted her to know I was going to attempt to find you. I'm sure she'd love to meet you guys at some point."

I nodded. Andie decided to grab that opening to swing our conversation around to his illness. "We're saddened to hear about your declining health, James. Do you mind me asking you to tell us more about it? " I leaned forward in my chair slightly as I waited for him to reply.

James gave her a thin smile. "I was planning on it. It's only fair you know the facts." With a small sigh, he elaborated, "I have a non-malignant brain tumor. It's expanding slowly and destroying the tissue around it as it grows. Unfortunately it's in an area of my brain where it's considered inoperable. My doctors say I might have six more months, nine on the outside."

"What are your symptoms?" I asked him, forcing my tone to remain neutral.

"They're sporadic still, but as it grows they'll eventually worsen. Some short-term memory loss, although my long-term memory is still pretty good. On my bad days I get dizzy spells. Nausea. Vomiting. A couple weeks ago I lost my vision for a terrifying minute or so, but it slowly came back. Eventually, once it presses more firmly against my optic nerve, I'll probably go completely blind. But hopefully that won't happen until close to the end." He looked like a man who had accepted his fate.

I was feeling some nausea of my own at the thought of what he would have to go through. Logically, I was fully aware I hardly knew this guy, but still, the idea of him dying made me feel sick and cold inside. Emotions were swirling around that I wasn't sure I'd ever felt before. I knew I should say something sympathetic, but I couldn't seem to come up with anything that felt appropriate. What's appropriate to say to a dying father you barely know? I dragged my fingers through my hair.

Andie saved me from having to respond. "We're so sorry, James. Is there anything at all we can do? Do you have medical insurance?"

His eyebrows lifted, and he exhaled a soft sigh of frustration. "I don't need money, if that's what you're asking. I just wanted to make amends with my son and meet his family – that's all."

Guilt enveloped me. Andie had brought up to me last night the possibility that he was looking for us to pay his medical bills, and while I dismissed her concern, I won't lie and say that it hadn't at least briefly crossed my own mind.

"No, no," I quickly interjected. "We didn't think you only wanted to meet me to obligate me into a cash injection. Andie was just making sure you were covered. I want to – _we_ want to help out however we can."

"I have insurance," James stated firmly. "I sell life and health insurance. I'm fully covered." Right. I knew that. I'd forgotten to mention that fact to Andie yesterday, though. Stupid. I should have fucking known better.

"Okay," Andie replied with a smile. "Glad to know that medical bills aren't going to be a problem for you. Is there anything else we can do to help out during this difficult time? Have you been seeing any specialists? I have a contact at the U. of V. Cancer Center in Charlottesville. They do specialty work with brain tumors, as you might already be aware. Perhaps I could make a phone call on your behalf?"

I turned to her with widened eyes before James could even reply. "Great idea! That'd be excellent."

James chuckled and I looked back at him. "Shouldn't that be my line, Damon?"

"Touché," I responded, with a genuine smile.

He directed his gaze back to my wife. "Thank you, Andie. But it's really not necessary. I've had three diagnoses already. They all agree it's inoperable."

"That may be true," I said firmly. "But what does it hurt to get a fourth opinion? Or a fifth? Maybe there's some other avenue of treatment you haven't even heard of yet. It's worth a shot."

"Of course," he sighed. "You're right. I can put up with another round or two of poking and prodding if it might extend my time with my family for a few additional months. I'll take as much as I can get."

I noticed a flicker of a frown cross Andie's face before she whisked it away. She was thinking again about the potential effect on Alexis if – when - James passed away. Pasting on her brightest smile, she said, "I'll make a call tomorrow and let you know as soon as I can if I can get you an appointment. How long can you stay in Lynchburg?"

"As long as is needed. If you're successful in getting me into the Cancer Center, I'll plan my next trip down here around it. Perhaps I can convince Miriam to come with me." He looked over at me and I pressed my lips together in a tight grin of approval. Meeting my half sister should happen as soon as possible, as far as I was concerned. We had a lot we needed to discuss.

Andie stifled a yawn that I wasn't sure if she was faking for our benefit or not. "I'm heading upstairs. I have a bit of work I need to get done before bed." She stood and took James' hand. "It was wonderful to meet you James. I look forward to seeing you again soon."

Before she could pull her fingers out of his, he rose and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Likewise. You have a beautiful daughter and a lovely home. Thank you for having me over."

When she'd left the room, I topped up the scotch in our glasses and sat back down. James had driven over in a rental car, but I was prepared to pay for a cab ride back to his hotel room if I couldn't convince him to spend the night in our guest bedroom. "I take it you're still working?" I commented as I passed him his tumbler.

"I've been gradually reducing my client list, but I do have some I still need to visit, so I have to return to Buffalo by the weekend."

"Understood. If Andie can get you into the U. of V. Centre, you'll come back with Miriam then?"

"I'll be back, yes. I can't speak for Miriam but I think she'll join me. I know she'll want to meet you and your family. I would love for the two of you to know each other."

I nodded. "I'd like that, too." I leaned back into the soft leather of the loveseat and lifted my feet up onto the coffee table. "So, tell me about my mother. Anything and everything you can remember."

His face lit up with a brilliant smile. "I knew you'd ask me that. Because it's exactly what I'd want to ask me, if I were you."

Then he started talking about my mom. He told me how he'd met Isabella Stellini at the University of Richmond on their very first week of classes. Apparently he took one look at her and just knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was the one for him. There was no question in his mind. They became inseparable, connecting on a deeper level of understanding than he'd had with anyone before. James was completely head over heels in love with her before they ever even kissed.

She'd been dating another guy when they met, which was why their relationship started off as an ever-deepening friendship. He knew he was falling hard for her, and he just hoped and prayed that she'd eventually be single and start to see him the same way. He refused to give up on what they had between them, and she told him later that she'd been feeling the same way. He was completely blown away when he discovered she'd had the same reaction as he'd had – instantly smitten. She'd felt guilty about it but eventually she couldn't deny their connection any longer and she'd left her boyfriend for James.

And they'd been perfect together - crazy for each other and happier than either had ever been before in their entire lives. Until she'd discovered she was pregnant with me.

James looked so goddamn sad and guilty when he got to that part that I stopped him. There was no need for him to rehash the same painful territory again. I knew he'd thought he was doing the best thing for both of us when he walked away. I also knew he'd regretted it every day of his life since. That regret had been obvious from the moment he'd sat down opposite me in that coffee shop last week. I couldn't imagine living the rest of my life consumed by that kind of guilt and remorse.

"It's fine," I told him. "Water under the bridge and all that."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then downed the last swallow from his glass. "Do you think you can ever forgive me, Damon?" he asked quietly, holding my gaze with those blue eyes so like my own.

I didn't reply for a few seconds, thinking about the best way to reassure him. Finally I just went with, "Already have."

He stood up and I did the same, thinking he was ready for me to show him to the spare room or call him a cab. To my surprise, he pulled me into a hug. I froze for a moment, shocked as hell, and then clapped him on the back before stepping away. I couldn't remember the last time Giuseppe had hugged me. Pretty sure it was sometime back before my mother got sick.

At his request, I called for a taxi and assured him I'd be in touch with him the next day. Once James was on his way back to his hotel, I poured another generous two fingers into my tumbler and dropped heavily back onto the couch. I had a lot of new information to process. I wasn't conflicted about how I felt about James or the difficult path we were about to undertake together, but his story about meeting my mother had me reeling.

Instead of it reminding me of when Andie and I had started dating, like you might assume it would, all I could think about when he'd been talking about my mom was how I'd been reacting to Elena since the day I'd laid eyes on her. Problem was, our situation was way more complicated than two teenagers making eyes at each other when one of them already had a boyfriend. With every fiber of my being I'd been resisting falling for Elena Gilbert, but if I was being completely honest with myself, I knew damn well it had already happened. Weeks ago. Maybe the first day I met her – much the same as how James had described his response to meeting my mom.

Fuck.

* * *

**Elena**

I hadn't talked to Damon in a few days, although he'd sent me a quick Facebook message telling me that the evening James Miller came over to meet his family had gone really well. I was curious to ask him more about it, but so far we hadn't found time to connect in person.

I'd just finished up an e-mail to Rose with some pricing for one of Damon's clients, when my phone rang. My heart leapt at the sound and I looked at the display hoping to see his extension flash up, but unfortunately I was disappointed. It was Katherine. She didn't waste any time on pleasantries, asking me to come into her office right away. The aforementioned heart didn't just return to its regular place in my chest; it dropped to the floor. Whatever this was about, I was certain it couldn't be good.

Straightening my spine and squaring my shoulders, I walked into Katherine's office projecting as much confidence as I could. She looked over at me from whatever she was reading on her laptop screen and gave me small smile. "Have a seat, Elena."

I sat. And I concentrated on keeping my features relaxed as I waited to see what this was about.

"You've been with us for…what? Two months now?" she began.

"Yes," I agreed, although it was slightly longer, but I wasn't about to nitpick.

"Are you happy here?"

Well, that wasn't what I was expecting. "Yes, very much so," I answered truthfully.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Katherine leaned back in her chair and studied me. "You seem to get along well with everyone?" It was definitely more of a question than a statement.

Where was she going with this? "Um, yes. I think so."

"Now that your training is complete, I've been going over some of the pricing you've done." I couldn't help but think that her expression had gotten a little more shark-like.

I forced a smile into place. "Okay, that's good. Did you find any areas of concern?" I was confident that my work had been excellent, but I was not confident at all of Katherine Pierce's opinion of me as her employee.

"You've been working on an awful lot of Damon's cases, I've noticed." One perfectly tweezed dark brow lifted up on her forehead like a bird taking flight.

"Have I? I haven't noticed. Is that a bad thing?" I kept my tone as even and unaffected as I could.

"I'd hate for any of my accountants to be accused of favoritism," she remarked, leaning forward again in her chair and resting her elbows on her desk.

"I could see why that would be a cause for concern," I returned. "But I can assure you it's not the case with me. I treat every request that comes across my desk equally, prioritizing their importance by level of rush, then in order of when they were received. Just as Alaric trained me to."

That eyebrow rose up again. "You and Damon have developed a friendship beyond merely co-workers, haven't you?"

Uh oh. My guard shot straight up and I felt my heart rate begin to accelerate along with it. "Yeeees, I guess you could say that," I answered slowly. "Is that a problem?"

"Actually, yes. It could be perceived as such. In your role here, becoming close with an Account Manager could be a serious conflict of interest if anyone were to question the work you did for him…or her." Now she smiled at me again and I didn't like that smile one bit.

Heat flooded my cheeks. I wanted to tell her that who I was or wasn't friends with was none of her damn business. I wanted to point out that Alaric and Damon were good friends, had been for some time now, and no one had a problem with that. But I didn't want to get Alaric into difficulties with Katherine. And honestly, for all I knew, maybe she _did_ have a problem with their friendship, too. I needed to talk to Ric about this as soon as I had a chance.

"I don't play favourites, Katherine. Never have and never will. You can audit my cases as much as you want – you won't find any preferential treatment. No quotes on Damon's groups that go above and beyond what we would normally do. I evaluate each request on its own merit and make my calculations and adjustments accordingly." My temper was starting to boil, and I'm sure a tiny hint of it probably came out in what I'd just replied. I needed to get out of Katherine's office as soon as possible, before I said something to her I'd really regret.

"Elena, I can't tell you that you're not allowed to be friends with someone, obviously," she said bluntly. I bit the edge of my lower lip and forced my mouth to remain shut. "However, I'm warning you right now – it's a bad idea in this workplace. People could interpret what they see in ways you might not mean them to. And I'll be keeping an eye on your work, as you mentioned. Any sign of favoritism and you could lose your job here. This discussion can be considered your warning."

My hands were starting to shake with fury. I stood up, nodded to her that I understood, and left her office. I didn't go into Alaric's – that would have to wait. I strode through the hallways to the farthest ladies room from Accounting, went inside and locked myself into a stall.

I was completely livid. She had no right to doubt my work ethic! And she certainly had no right to hint that I couldn't be friends with Damon and keep my job here! I wanted to punch something. I wanted to punch some_one_, actually. Instead I clenched my fists tightly in my lap as hot tears fill my eyes. I wasn't a violent person and I wasn't prone to fits of rage very often either, but Katherine had managed to push all the right buttons today.

I sat there for about five minutes and swiped my tears away with a scrunched up piece of toilet tissue (which incidentally removed or smeared most of my eyeliner along with it.) Then I went back to my cubicle. I noticed it was nearing three-thirty; that meant I could get out of here soon. Thank God for small favors. Only another half hour and I could escape this stifling environment and breath again.

There was an e-mail waiting for me in my inbox from Damon.

_How goes your day?_

I sighed. _Not so great_, I quickly typed back.

Not thirty seconds later he replied, _What's wrong?_

_I'm about ready to punch a wall_.

_Why?_

Thinking to myself that I should really just exchange cell phone numbers with him, so we could send each other short, non-detailed texts, I responded, _Don't think I want to get into it right now._

_Come over here._

Again with the lack of a 'please'. My irritation level went up a notch, although rationally I knew he just wanted to see me face to face to find out what was upsetting me.

_I'm way too stressed out right now to have a civil conversation. I'll explain later._

The truth was that I didn't want to see Damon in person for two reasons. One – I was still super agitated and I didn't want to tell him about my discussion with Katherine until I'd calmed down and could speak about it rationally. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that the second reason was mostly about vanity. I'd wiped away nearly all my makeup with my frustrated tears and what little remained was smudged and messy. My eyes were red and a bit puffy. I looked like hell and I didn't want him to see me like this. Call me proud if you like, but it mattered to me. I wanted him to always see the best of me.

Another reply: _Elena,_ _please come see me before you leave_.

My lower lip quivered. Damn him. He'd remembered my advice. There was the missing 'please'. I realized he just wanted to try to help me feel better the way I had for him the previous week. I loved that he wanted to be there for me when he thought I needed it. And I did need someone to talk to right now. But that someone would end up on the receiving end of a major rant and I didn't want to put him through that. Our conversation would have to wait.

I glanced at the time again and was relieved to note that it was nearly four o'clock. More than anything, I needed to go home. I just couldn't deal with going to see Damon right now. I couldn't.

_I'm sorry. I have to go. I'll talk to you next week._

Then I left.

What I didn't know at the time, but found out from him later, was that he was watching out his office window and saw me walk to my car. He even knocked on the glass to try to get my attention, but I didn't notice. I doubt I would have come back in to see him, even if I had heard, but it would have lifted my spirits and put a little smile on my face to know how much he cared.

* * *

Later that night, I was propped up in bed trying to pay attention to some Anne Hathaway movie with my laptop balanced across my thighs. Matt was down in the rec room watching baseball, which I had only a passing interest in, so I'd come upstairs. To be honest, I needed some alone time. I'd told Matt over dinner about my conversation with Katherine, leaving out the specifics of Damon being the Account Manager in question. He'd listened to me with sympathy, but I knew he didn't really get it. How could he? My career was so vastly different from his, as was my relationship with my manager. I'd changed the topic to something else so he wouldn't have to pretend to be interested in my complaining.

Ever since I'd gotten in my car to drive home, I'd been feeling really guilty about blowing Damon off. I hoped he wasn't annoyed with me about refusing to come over and I knew I needed to make things right between us.

On impulse, I pulled up Facebook and opened a new direct message. I typed quickly, not wanting to lose my nerve.

_Hi Damon,_

_I'm so sorry for not dropping by to see you earlier. Hope you weren't ticked off that I didn't come over._

_Katherine hauled me into her office to accuse me of playing favorites with certain Account Managers and giving their requests preferential treatment. I'm sure you know exactly which AM I mean. She told me it wasn't a good idea that we were friends and that she'd be keeping an eye on my workload going forward. She even implied that if she ever found anything that suggested favoritism in any of the quotes I did, that I could lose my job. As you can imagine, I rigorously defended myself and told her I'd never done anything like that and never would. Sometimes that woman makes me want to rip that smug smile right off her face. _

_I thought it probably wouldn't be a good idea to be seen sitting in your office this afternoon. And frankly I was way too angry to speak calmly about it anyway. _

_I won't let her or anyone else dictate who I can or can't be friends with._

_Sorry again for ignoring you this afternoon. Hope you can understand._

_Have you heard any more from James? Did you guys make plans to spend time together again? I guess we'll have lots to chat about next time we talk._

_Hope you have a great weekend with lots of Alexis time._

_Elena_

Before I could change my mind, I hit the little blue Send button. Then I shut it down and tried to refocus on the movie I'd been trying to use as a distraction from all my thoughts.

* * *

The next morning I woke up to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. I stretched my arms out over my head and yawned. As it was Saturday, I rolled over and pulled the sheets back up, thinking I'd go back to sleep for another fifteen minutes or so. Then I recalled my 'discussion' with Katherine yesterday. And right on the heels of that I remembered the Facebook message I'd sent to Damon last night.

I sat up, grabbed my laptop off my bedside table and opened it. Sure enough, there was a reply from Damon waiting for me.

_WTF? I wasn't ticked off before, but I am now. She's gone WAY over the line this time. She actually had the balls to try to tell you that you shouldn't be friends with me? That bitch has NO right to say that to you. And questioning your professionalism and work ethic? She'd be a goddamn fool to lose you if you quit and I really want to tell her to go f herself on your behalf right now. This makes me SO angry, Elena. But try not to let her ruin your long weekend. I hope you're able to lock it away and forget about it for a few days. I should be in the office mid-afternoon on Tuesday. Maybe see you then._

_D._

I typed off a quick '_Thank you'_, closed the laptop and put it aside. I was still seething about Katherine, but I couldn't repress a relieved smile at Damon's unflinching support.

* * *

**A/N** _Thank you so much for all your reviews and favourite adds! Special thanks to afanoftvd for betaing this chapter for me. I'm still going to try to get you a new chapter about once a week, but the writing process has been going a little slower these days due to extenuating circumstances, so the delay between chapters might once and a while be two weeks instead of just one. Still more frequent than most other fanfic I've ever read, so I'm sure you guys will be understanding if it occasionally takes more than a week to get a new chapter up. Happy Sunday and please review! (reviews help inspire me - they really do!) _


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

**Elena**

Nearly every second of that long Labor Day weekend seemed to drag. I felt like I was in a daze for most of it. My emotions whirled from anger to guilt to sadness and back again. I just wanted to hide from the world.

And I actually did manage to, for a few hours. We'd had plans to go to Matt's mother's place for dinner Saturday night. I begged off, claiming painful cramps. Womanly issues tended to be an excellent excuse – Matt made no argument about me choosing to stay home.

All I wanted was to curl up in bed and try to sleep, try to shut off my cascading thoughts. I hadn't been sleeping well for quite some time now. Hadn't been all that hungry lately, either. I'd noticed my waistbands were fitting looser, and when I hopped on the scale I wasn't shocked to see my weight was down. I was well aware I needed to start getting more sleep, but no matter how hard I tried, I always just ended up lying awake until stupidly late, then waking back up far too early.

After Matt left, I poured myself a glass of wine and drank it quickly, barely even tasting it as I swallowed. Then I topped up the glass. I remembered hearing people joke that you knew you had a problem if you drank alone, but tonight I really didn't care. Alcohol often made me sleepy, and right now that was my goal. I just wanted to pass out and not think about my failings anymore.

With one glass of wine in my belly, and another half full one plus what remained in the bottle in my hands, I went upstairs to my bedroom. I could definitely feel the beginnings of a nice, comfortable buzz swirling through me and relaxing in my bed seemed like a great idea. I turned on the television and took another sip from my glass.

A movie was just starting, one that had come out a few years back. It was called "_Little Children_", starred Kate Winslet and was about two people, bored and unhappy in their marriages, who meet at their children's school playground and start an affair. I rolled my eyes and laughed a little at the weird symmetry to all my recent inappropriate yearnings, but I couldn't help it; morbid curiosity won me over. Before long, I found myself completely caught up in the story. At the end, they didn't end up together - they both just went back to their families and their spouses were never the wiser. I thought it was interesting that the movie didn't portray them getting caught and suffering negative consequences. Most stories about extramarital affairs wind up with those that cheat having their lives torn apart because of it. This one didn't end with that kind of moral message, which was quite unusual and possibly valid food for thought, if I was currently capable to giving any heavy thinking to it. Which I wasn't; there'd be no contemplation of important matters for me tonight. I was done in.

I switched off the television and downed the last of…I think my fourth glass? No wonder I felt so lethargic. I got up to dispose of the wine bottle so that Matt wouldn't question its presence on my night table later. After I took care of my bathroom needs, I crawled right back under the covers. It wasn't late yet, but I was definitely drunk. I knew sleep was close at hand.

Damon's face swirled through my mind as I lay there, and I didn't try to push it away. I imagined him spooned up behind me with his arms wrapped around me in a warm, comforting embrace. For a moment there it was almost as if I could smell the light scent of his cologne and feel his fingers tracing patterns across my stomach. I fell easily asleep for the first time in weeks. And I dreamed of guilt-free, happy things.

* * *

On Sunday evening, we met Ric and Jenna at the Mystic Grill for drinks. Dana and Ben were running late, but they showed up to join us a half hour or so later. I'd hoped being around the group of them would be a good distraction for me, but to be honest, it wasn't really, at least not as much as I wanted it to be. As I sat beside Matt, his arm draped across the back of the booth behind me, listening to the other couples tell us how they met and seeing how happy and in love they were, treacherous thoughts played through my mind. I'm not gonna lie; I was feeling envious of what it was obvious the other four had. I had known Dana since we were kids and I saw the way she looked at Ben. I knew what it meant. She wasn't just smitten – she was madly in love with this guy. And, though I hadn't known Ric for very long, I could clearly see the same smile on his face, the same devotion in his eyes when he looked at Jenna.

When was the last time I'd looked at Matt that way? Everyone told me that relationships evolved over time and that marriage took hard work on both sides to keep it strong, but the way I was feeling these days – it just didn't make sense. Was this normal? It sure didn't seem like it to me. It felt like something was very, very wrong.

Ben and Dana openly clasped hands on top of the table. Ric had one arm around Jenna's waist as he sipped his beer and chatted with us. Matt and I sat with a good couple of feet of space between us, not touching at all. I don't know if he noticed this or not, as it was pretty much our standard these days, but after observing the dynamic between the other couples, I certainly did.

As the guys talked about the Orioles chances of winning the pennant race this year, I found myself tuning out and twisting my wedding band around and around on my finger. Dana shot me a questioning look. I'd been quieter than normal and she definitely knew me well enough to detect my unease. With a bright smile, she invited me to join her in the ladies room. Gratefully I got up from the bench and followed.

"You okay, 'Lena?" she asked me, as soon as we got inside. The washroom was dimly lit and deserted. The cacophony of the music and conversation out in the lounge dulled as the door slipped shut behind us.

I pressed my lips together. She'd known Matt as long as I had and considered him a friend. It wasn't really fair for me to dump any of this stuff on her, when I knew if I did it would just make her feel obligated to stand by me, and possibly uncomfortable around Matt. I couldn't force her into that position.

"Sure," I lied, turning toward the mirror and pulling out my lip-gloss to reapply. "Just overtired, that's all. Ben's a hottie, and he seems really nice. I think you lucked out this time, girl." I took a chance and hoped diverting to the topic of her new relationship would distract her from asking more about me. It did, but not for long.

Dana gushed about Ben for a bit, admitting what I'd recently surmised – that she was head over heels for him. They'd even said those three little words to each other already. I gave her a big hug and told her I was really happy for her, which was the God's honest truth.

"Are you really sure you're okay?" she wondered again, as we were about to rejoin the others. "You seem a little off tonight."

I looked at her and just shrugged. "I'm fine. Just tired and crampy. You know how it is." I really hated lying to Matt and now to Dana, too. It just felt wrong. I was getting some actual stomach cramps out of guilt, which added a dash of truth to the lie, but didn't make me feel any better about it.

"It's nothing to do with that guy at work, is it? Sorry, "Lena, but I have to ask, after our last talk."

Breaking eye contact, I braced my palm flat against the door and pushed. "Not at all," I mumbled, walking out of the washroom ahead of her. If she knew I wasn't being honest, she didn't say anything more about it. Which made her a far better friend than I was right now.

* * *

**Damon**

James had gone back to Buffalo. Stefan was at Giuseppe's, hopefully keeping his trap shut about what I'd found out. We'd spent the previous day with Andie's mother (her father was at work, which was probably a blessing in disguise), so this Labor Day Monday it was just my little family all on our own.

I was up in Alexis' room, sitting cross-legged on the floor playing _Snakes and Ladders _with her. Well, it's actually called _Chutes and Ladders_ these days, but in my mind those 'chutes' would always be the fat, scary-looking snakes from my childhood. She kept trying to cheat – sneaky little thing – and I made a point to always insist she re-count her squares. It was a great way to get her to practice her counting and kept her amused while learning. Unsurprisingly, Andie was off somewhere else in the house, taking some time to herself.

"Six!" Alexis squealed with delight after she spun. She went to move her cardboard piece that was shaped like a dark-haired girl.

"Hold on, missy," I said, taking a hold of her small wrist. "The arrow is right on the line. Spin again."

She gave me the world's cutest pout. "Daddy, it's on six. See? Right there!" She pointed at the tiny fraction of an inch the plastic arrow leaned toward the side of the line by the six.

I gave in, as she knew I would. "Fine, take your six. See where it gets you." I eyed the long blue chute that descended from the square six spaces away from the one on which her piece sat.

Alexis carefully counted out the squares as she hopped her girl across the board. "One, two, tree, four, five…awwww. No fair!"

"Should have listened to your Daddy and spun again," I laughed. "Tough luck, kiddo."

"You could give her a break once in a while," Andie said dryly. Looking up, I saw her leaning against the pink-painted doorjamb of Alexis' bedroom.

I snorted. "She has to learn to play by the rules. We're nearly done. Wanna join the next round?"

"Mommy, please play with us," Alexis begged, her blue eyes wide. I could never resist those eyes, so much like my own, and, I now realized, my father's. They sucked me in and made me putty in her tiny hands.

"I can't right now, sweetie," Andie told her. "I need to get some Mommy stuff done. Maybe later, okay?"

I frowned. 'Maybe later' were two words Alexis and I both heard too damn much from Andie these days. "You can do your Mommy stuff later," I said firmly. "You're just scared a three-year-old might kick your butt at _Snakes and Ladders_!"

"It's 'Chutes', Daddy!" Alexis scolded me. "I keep telling you! Chutes!"

"Whatever," I laughed. Looking up at Andie and holding her gaze, I said, "C'mon. We're not taking 'no' for an answer this time."

My wife shot me an irritated look, much too quickly for Alexis to see it, and lowered herself to the floor resignedly. She pasted on a smile and said, "Hurry up and beat Daddy, honey, so I can show you both how it's done."

Alexis giggled happily and passed the spinner to me. Her laughter was hands-down my favorite sound in the world. As I took my turn, I tried to remember the last time I'd heard Andie laugh genuinely and realized I couldn't. We used to laugh together all the time. When had that changed?

I pushed those thoughts down and tried to focus on some happy time with my family, since moments like this seemed so few and far between these days.

* * *

I was watching yet another cooking challenge on the Food Channel in the living room later, just about to turn it off and head upstairs to bed, when Andie came downstairs. She was smiling.

Dropping onto the couch beside me, she said, "Damon, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Uh oh. Call it a gut feeling, but, smile or no smile, I instinctively knew this couldn't be good.

Muting the television, I turned to face her. "What's that?" I asked, keeping my expression neutral.

"I've just been talking with Dan in the New York studio. He told me confidentially that Greta Cormier is pregnant! They're going to be looking for her replacement shortly." She sounded ridiculously stoked and irritation surged through me. I wasn't so blind I couldn't already predict where this was heading.

"She does Sports, Andie. You hate covering Sports," I told her matter-of-factually.

"I know. But it's an 'in', Damon. In New York! This could be just the opportunity I've been waiting for!"

"A temporary 'in'," I corrected her. "For a maternity leave. What would it be? A three month contract?"

She sighed, unwilling to relinquish her excitement. "Probably, yes. It could be as long as six, but I doubt it. Greta won't want to be gone from the public eye for long. Not that I blame her."

Of course she didn't. Why would she think the woman might want more time home with her newborn than a few months? Why would she assume anyone might prioritize their child over their fucking career? I tried to tamp down my rising annoyance.

"It'd only be three months. Three months that could change the entire path of my career! If they like me, I could be brought in permanently when there's a place for me. And it would put my face in front of millions of viewers every night, which makes me far more valuable to other large-market stations. I'd be a fool not to take the opportunity. You see that, right?" I didn't know who she was trying harder to convince, me or herself.

Suddenly I realized how self-assured she sounded. My eyes narrowed. "He already offered you the contract, didn't he?" I asked flatly.

She flushed and looked away, which told me all I needed to know.

"Andie." Anger was starting to seep into my tone. "Answer the damn question!"

"Yes…he did. Not officially yet, but he assured me it's mine if I want it," she replied quietly. She still wouldn't look at me.

"Let me guess. You already accepted?" Her eyes shot up to mine then down again. The corner of her lip twitched.

"Damon, you know how important this could be for me…"

"You accepted a three month contract in New York, away from your family, without even talking to me about it first? Are you fucking kidding me here?" My volume had risen a notch. I was seething. Clenching my fists tightly at my sides, I stared at her, willing her to meet my eyes.

Finally Andie looked back up, and I saw that she was retaliating with some anger of her own. "You're not being fair! Opportunities like this don't come along that often for someone working on small town cable news like me! I had to commit when Dan asked me, or he would've just gone to the next person on his list. And it's not like I'll be gone for three months straight if this goes through. I'd come home every weekend…"

I laughed. It sounded like dry leaves crackling. "You're right, Andie. Take the job. It's what you've always wanted. Don't worry about us. I'll take care of everything here while you're gone. Hell, it won't be much different from now anyway." I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the converter, intending to flick the television's volume back on.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked icily.

Looking back at her, I arched a brow. "Just that your career comes first. Always has."

She started to protest, but I cut her off. "Don't even. Don't even try to deny it. We both know you'd be lying if you did. You make decisions that affect us without even talking to me about them first. You're at work more than you're home. Jesus, Andie. If it wasn't for Alexis needing her mother so damn badly, I'd tell you to not bother coming back on weekends. Just stay in New York the whole time. At least then we'd know not to expect you."

"That's completely unfair, Damon. You're really going to pull a guilt trip on me about this? Hold me back from an opportunity you know full well I've been waiting ages for? I can't believe you!" She was as angry as I was, but for completely different reasons.

I sighed. "It doesn't matter what I think anyway, does it? You'll do exactly what you want to do. So, go ahead. Take the job if they offer it officially. I won't try to stop you. Just don't be surprised when Alexis grows used to not having you around."

"I don't want to be away from her. Or you. You know that."

"Do I? I don't think I do, Andie. But your mind is made up and nothing I say is gonna change it, so I think this discussion is over." I pushed the volume button on the remote and fixed my gaze on the television, although I was focusing so hard on controlling my temper that I wasn't even seeing the images on the screen.

She put a hand on my arm. "Damon, please try to understand. It's only three months."

I shook her off. "Three months for now. And if you get hired on, then what? You'll expect us to drop everything and uproot our lives to New York, right?"

She didn't reply, but I felt her whole body stiffen.

"That's what I thought," I said, after a minute.

"Goodnight, Damon," Andie sighed, standing up. "There's no use talking to you when you're like this."

As she went to head back upstairs, from the corner of my eye I saw her turn back to me.

"Oh, and I finally got a chance to speak with Dr. Michaelson at the Cancer Center in Charlottesville about James today."

That got my attention. I turned to her and lifted an eyebrow. "And?"

"You can tell him he has an appointment on September sixteenth at seven am. It's the only time they could fit him in."

"Will do," I muttered, and she went up the steps without another word.

The words 'fed up' didn't even begin to describe how monumentally angry I was with my wife right now, appointment for James notwithstanding. Andie just didn't fucking get it. I felt like she'd never grasp the fact that her family should always come first. That marriage is a partnership. That her child needs a mother more that she needs any extra wealth Andie's goddamn career would bring us.

And, selfishly, I was feeling really sick and tired of always having to be the responsible one around here, having to pick up the slack and take care of everybody else. Andie, Stefan, my clients - they all depended on me, whether they'd admit it or not. Not that I begrudged being the primary caregiver to Alexis these days – I didn't at all. I loved spending time with her more than anything. But what I was seriously lacking in my life was time for myself, when I could just relax and not have to worry about all my responsibilities. A time-out.

I needed a fucking time-out from all this in the worst way.

* * *

**Elena**

Wednesday afternoon was nearly over and I hadn't heard a single peep from Damon since his Facebook message to me late Friday night. At exactly five minutes to quitting time, his extension flashed up on my phone. My entire being washed in relief and happiness as soon as I saw it. He asked if I had time to pop over after I finished up and, since I was in no rush to get home as I knew Matt would be staying late at the school for football tryouts, I agreed. I'd wanted to talk to Damon in person about last week's 'Katherine incident' anyway. But most of all, I simply missed him.

When I got to his office, I started right into explaining my discussion with Katherine from last Friday in greater detail, including how upset I'd been afterwards. I could clearly see Damon's irritation growing as he listened to me recount it, and his abrupt tossing out of "little bitch" after I told him she'd said it was a bad idea for us to be friends solidified that fact. I finished by apologizing again for not coming over to see him before leaving.

"I saw you walk out to your car," he told me.

"You did?"

"Yep. I was troubled after our e-mail exchange. You looked so upset; I actually knocked on the glass to try to get your attention."

Really? Wow. I couldn't suppress a pleased smile at that. I mean, I knew it was true – I knew from his e-mails - but hearing him actually admit his concern for my state of mind out loud meant a lot.

"I didn't mean to worry you. I just…it just didn't seem like a good idea to come see you right then," I finished lamely. What was I gonna say? That I didn't come over because I'd been so upset I'd cried away my makeup in the ladies room like an over-emotional teenager and I didn't want him to see me looking like crap? Not likely.

"But you're fine with it now?"

I shrugged. "I've been doing a lot of thinking since Katherine and I spoke. I've realized that I work better…you and I work better together…when we talk things out. And as she said, she can't dictate who I can be friends with. So screw her." I grinned at him, but it slipped from my face when I realized exactly what I'd just said. Oops, maybe a bad choice of words, since according to Caroline, Damon actually had.

"Been there, done that," he chuckled.

My brows flew up in shock. Did he really just say that? Was I finally going to find out the truth about Katherine and the Salvatore brothers, straight from the mouth of someone directly involved?

With a small snicker, I said, "Yeah, I think I heard some rumors to that effect."

"Of course you did." He shook his head and smiled wryly. "They're all so sure they know what really happened. And they're all wrong."

"So what really happened, Damon? If you don't mind me asking?"

"I'd rather you know the truth." He picked up a pen and began twirling it in his fingers as he spoke. "I did sleep with Katherine – once - a long time ago. About a year before she and Stefan were married. We were both pretty drunk at the time; well, I was, anyway. And I never touched her again. Years later, for some dumb-ass reason she told Stefan about our little indiscretion. Guess she still felt guilty and needed to purge. My brother freaked, assumed we'd been fu…sorry…fooling around behind his back for years. He wouldn't believe either of us when we denied it was ever more than that one time. Still won't, actually."

He paused and looked at me. "His paranoia and mistrust destroyed his marriage, Elena. Can you believe that? Katherine is definitely many things – 'arrogant bitch' comes to mind – but as far as I know, adulterer isn't one of them."

A sharp pang of guilt stabbed me in the gut at his last few words. How could I possibly judge anyone else's actions when I was clearly having so much difficultly remembering my own wedding vows?

I realized with a start that Damon had told me more personal, private details about his life over the past couple weeks than Matt had in the first few years I'd known him. Not that it was the same. Matt's family dramas were nothing compared to the things Damon had confessed to me recently. But, still. I couldn't help but be ridiculously flattered that he trusted me enough and felt comfortable enough around me to share this stuff.

"That's messed up," I replied. "But it explains some things. I accidentally overheard her and Stefan arguing a while back. Now I understand what they were referring to." I almost told him that I was pretty sure Katherine was still in love with his brother, that she'd been nearly in tears after he'd stormed off, but I stopped myself. No matter how much I trusted Damon and had issues with Katherine, that was too private a moment of hers for me to divulge.

"And you're right. They all think you two had an affair while she and Stefan were married." I sighed. "I hate all the gossip. It can destroy people's careers, marriages, entire lives, even."

"Yep," he said. "But at least now _you_ know the truth. Sleeping with her was the worst decision I ever made, Elena. It would be easy to just blame the alcohol, but it was my own fault. I was well aware she was Stefan's girlfriend and I never should've laid a finger on her. It ruined my relationship with my brother and I've regretted it ever since."

"I'm so sorry, Damon. I really hope Stefan can forgive you someday." My heart clenched for him. This was a topic that still clearly caused him pain.

He nodded. "I hope so, too." Then he broke into a grin. "Let's change the subject, shall we? How was your long weekend? Ric told me you guys all met for drinks Sunday night? If I lived in Mystic Falls, I would've come out and joined you."

"Oh, yeah?" I responded, with a small smile. Internally I shuddered. Having Damon there, with or without Andie, would have just made things a hundred times worse for me, anxiety-wise.

"Why not?" he smirked. "Or wouldn't you have wanted me there?"

I pressed my lips together. "I have to admit, spending an evening having drinks with you sounds pretty appealing." Not to mention terrifying.

"We should make plans to go into Richmond one night. Meet up for drinks. Maybe see a band."

_Whoa_. My eyes widened and I think my heart stuttered in my chest. Did he really just invite me to go to Richmond with him? Did he have any idea what kind of effect saying stuff like that had on me?

"Are you serious?" I asked, in a voice that was so low it was nearly a whisper. He was looking right into my eyes again. And again, I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding. I suddenly realized I was sporting a goofy grin. I bet I looked like a love-struck teenager.

"Sure," he replied casually. "I think we both could use some downtime away from our lives. I sure as hell know I could. Hanging out with you away from the office would be fun. You game?"

My throat felt drier than the Sahara, but my smile didn't falter in the slightest. What exactly was he inviting me to do? And was I game? Was I? That was the million-dollar question.

Before I could give any more thought to it, words just began to tumble out. "You're right. I _could_ really use some downtime and that definitely sounds fun. My friend Amy lives right near downtown. I could sleep over at her place so I wouldn't have to worry about driving back home after." Oh my God. What did I just agree to? It was like my mouth had a mind of its own.

"If we picked a Thursday night, I could arrange a meeting Friday morning so I'd have reason to book a hotel in the city overnight. I have several clients in Richmond. Shouldn't be a problem. And then all my expenses would be a write-off. Win-win!"

He was grinning as he thought through things out loud. I was just stuck on the word 'hotel'. Instead of commenting more, I nodded along with him. I had no idea if this was just some casual talk about potential future plans that friends discuss but ultimately ends up going nowhere, or if he was really serious about it and if this might really happen. I was clearly stunned at this turn of conversation, and I'm not sure I was processing it all very well.

"…up with me?"

Crap. Missed some of that. Blushing, I asked, "Pardon?"

"Would you tell Matt you were meeting up with me?"

I frowned. Yet another highly pertinent question. Though it seemed impossible, I swear my cheeks got even hotter. I chewed my lip for a moment, before answering quietly, "Um, no. No, I don't think so. I think that would just…complicate things."

Damon was staring at me with that intense expression again. My stomach was twisting, both from our current topic of conversation and his gaze. It was obvious he was thinking very seriously. Was he imagining Andie's reaction if he told her he was going out drinking in different city with some other woman? Probably. Moments like this made me really wish I could read his mind.

"You're right," he replied, nodding. "It would definitely complicate things."

I promised I'd talk to Amy about a visit and get back to him with some potential dates that work. Then I told him I needed to head home. My brain felt like it was mush. I had way too much to mull over and I desperately needed the alone time of my drive back to Mystic Falls to think about exactly what we'd just discussed.

My emotions were ricocheting between extremes as I got into my car. I was overflowing with happy excitement at the idea of a night out just Damon and I in Richmond sometime soon. Not to mention the hotel room he'd so casually dropped into the conversation. Hell, I wouldn't even have to sleep at Amy's on the Thursday night, if I didn't want to. I could just tell her I was coming in after work on Friday. I could spend the afternoon shopping after Damon left for his meeting, and then meet her Friday evening and make a second night of it. As far as Matt needed to know, I would spend both nights with Amy.

But then the other fifty percent of my reaction to all this kicked in, the disbelief, the overwhelming fear and guilt. I broke into a cold sweat as I drove, just contemplating all this stuff. What kind of a person was I becoming? Could I ever respect myself again if for some reason Damon and I did cross the friendship line?

Cranking up both the air conditioning and the volume on the radio, I sang along as loudly as I could with the song playing to try to drown out the conflicting voices in my head and in my heart.

* * *

_**A/N** Thank you, my dear readers, for all your sweet reviews! They mean SO much to me. You guys are the best! Please let me know your thoughts on this chapter. :)_


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

* * *

**Elena**

That night sleep again refused to take me over. Matt had asked why I'd been so quiet and tuned-out earlier, and I'd assured him I was just distracted by some work related issues. Which wasn't totally a lie. This time. But if I went to Richmond and hung out with Damon, I knew there would be other, far bigger lies in our future.

Around two in the morning, I decided I couldn't just lie there beside my snoring husband any longer. I got up and quietly went downstairs to the rec room again. Once more I turned on the television, lowered the volume and wrapped myself in the soft blanket that was draped across the back of the couch.

Once I was nice and cozy, I leaned back, closed my eyes and released my mind to wander free. I imagined what meeting up with Damon in Richmond might look like. I figured I'd probably head straight to the city after work, maybe leave my car at Amy's and walk downtown. Damon and I would've planned to meet up somewhere. But where? Somewhere not too crowded, with low lighting. And soft music. And good food. And, of course, a well-stocked bar. Suddenly I realized I knew just the place. I'd been there with Amy and some of her friends last spring. I couldn't recall its name, but it wouldn't be difficult to find out. It was a narrow hole-in-the-wall with couches all down one side and in the back, and a long bar along the other. If I was remembering correctly, they had cheap martinis every Thursday night, too. It'd be perfect.

Okay, so I'd take Damon there. Maybe he already knew of the place, but for the sake of this fantasy, I assumed he'd never heard of it before. I'd lead him to the couches in the back where it was more private – just what we wanted. I'd sit down across from him and we'd order a couple of martinis and some snacks. We'd relax and start to chat. Maybe I'd say I couldn't hear him well enough and use that excuse to move over and sit beside him, to lean closer. As my liquid courage grew, I'd flirt more with him and he with me. I'd stop myself after two drinks though; the last thing I'd want would be to become stupid drunk and end up getting sick. Not only would that be embarrassing as all hell, but I'd also not be able to remember much of our night. No, two drinks only. Three at the most.

After a while, we'd leave there and go for a walk. Maybe we'd stroll through Capital Square. At one point we'd hold hands. Would it be Damon that initiated the touching? Or me? I imagined him casually reaching over and catching my fingers in his as we chatted and laughed and walked. His hand would be warm and a bit sweaty, his fingertips rough and masculine. Before we got out of the park, we'd stop under a tree and he'd press me up against it and kiss me. And my legs would nearly give out from the mind-blowing experience of finally having his lips against mine, so I'd wrap my arms around the back of his neck and tangle my fingers into his thick hair, just to keep myself upright. It would be incredible. When we'd finally come up for air, we'd hurry back to his hotel room.

And then… Then.

Then we'd make love. And it would be the most incredible, passionate and loving experience of my entire life. He would get lost in me and worship me and make me feel like I was the only woman in the world to him…

Gah.

That final thought was like a dash of ice water to my overheated senses. Because _that_ was just it. No matter what might happen between us in Richmond, or anywhere else for that matter, I wouldn't be the only woman in Damon's world. I'd be the Other Woman.

My throat tightened and I heaved a frustrated sigh. This was ridiculous. I needed to stop lying to myself. This was far more than just physical attraction; I had real feelings for Damon. Strong feelings. Feelings that dragged me along a path towards him whether I struggled to resist or not. I'd already fallen hard, and it was high time I admitted the truth to myself.

I had no idea if he felt the same way about me. There'd definitely been some hints recently that he might, such as his "I obviously have a thing for younger woman" comment. Not just that he'd said it to me, but the _way_ he'd said it, while staring intently into my eyes. I'd felt like he was trying to look inside me, gauging my reaction to his words. And now, this suggestion to go out drinking in Richmond together? What was I supposed to make of that? Was it completely innocent? Did he just want a night out relaxing with a friend where we didn't have to worry about loose lips spreading gossip? Or did he want more? He'd made a point to mention that he'd get a hotel room. Was he hoping us drinking together would lead to other, more intimate things? Things like what had happened that night years ago with Katherine that he regretted so much? Surely the thought must have crossed his mind. He wasn't stupid, after all.

The very last thing I wanted was for us to have an amazing night together and then Damon regret it for the rest of his life afterward. I'd lose him forever if that happened, and I truly couldn't fathom the thought of him never being a part of my life again. It might damn near kill me.

Argh! I was going to make myself crazy if I didn't stop over-analyzing all this. I had to make a decision. Was I going to take a leap for once and allow myself to be selfish and wild, to be reckless with my heart? (_and Matt's and Andie's and maybe Alexis' as well_, whispered that persistent little voice of reason inside my head. Not that it was in any way wrong, but God, sometimes I hated that damn voice!) Or was I going to keep on being the responsible, practical, , but unfulfilled Elena who I'd always been?

No matter what I did now, someone was going to be hurt. _I _was going to be hurt. The very best case scenario I could come up with was that I'd eventually have to break my loving husband's heart and leave him, which would be beyond horrible. And that would be the _best_ case. The worst case…well…I didn't even want to go over again the myriad ways this could and probably would blow up in my face. I'd already memorized every last one of them.

I didn't see any choice I could make that wasn't going to lead to grief.

* * *

Another night of barely sleeping. My morning coffee had become my crutch. I'd gone back upstairs to bed in the wee hours, eventually managing to pass out sometime after four. And I'd woken up again around six, unable to fall back asleep for even another minute.

So I sat at my kitchen table, sipping hot coffee while irritatingly cheerful morning sunlight streamed through the window and reflected off the blue floor tiles that I'd picked out myself at Home Depot two summers ago. I'd carefully chosen those tiles, the fabric for the curtains, the countertops and the appliances when we did the renovations. I loved my kitchen – it was now exactly how I wanted it. I loved my little house, too. This was my home. How could I even be considering doing something that could rip it all away?

Today was the kind of day that should make me feel happy just for existing, yet here I was yawning and worrying and surfing on my laptop.

You ever ask for a sign from the Universe to help you understand something or to make a decision? The past few days I'd been begging for such a sign. And, strange as it might sound, as I scrolled down my Facebook home page, the Universe deigned to give me one.

A post of Dana's from the night before caught my eye. It was yet another inspirational image share, which seemed to dominate what my friends published on social networking sites lately. This one was a pink rectangle with a drawing of a smart looking woman on the right side. These words of wisdom were scrawled in black across the left: '_It's never too late to change course. If this is not the life you want, love yourself enough to try another path.'_

My breath caught in my throat and I had to squeeze my eyes closed for a moment. Pressing my lips tightly together, I read it again. I swore that Fate had put that out there just for me to see right now.

I took a deep breath and felt that telltale itch in the corners of my eyes that belied my emotionally fragile state.

What if I did try another path?

What if I stopped fighting this and just let the tide take me where it may? If he broke my heart, which was likely, then I'd get hurt, sure, but I'd eventually get over it. I'd move on and I'd become stronger for it. And if he didn't…well... if for some crazy reason Damon and I were meant to be together, then I would be forced to break Matt's heart. Which would definitely be brutal. Possibly the hardest thing I'd ever have to do. But as my dad had told me, sometimes I was going to have to make hard choices, and sometimes I needed to do what was best for me, not for other people.

I closed my laptop, rinsed out my mug and got ready to head into the office early. No matter how guilty I felt – and I definitely felt guilty - I finally knew what I wanted to do.

For me.

* * *

When I got to work, it was still really early. I'd beaten everyone into our department again. Before starting to organize my day's workload, I took a minute to text Amy and tell her we needed to plan a girl's weekend. I asked her which Friday night I might be able to come visit. I didn't mention sleeping over at her place on the Thursday, too. I decided I'd cross that wobbly bridge when I came to it.

An hour or so later, she replied, _Great idea! It's been way too long. This month is nuts for me. How about Sep 27__th__? Or Oct 11__th__?_

I told her I'd get back to her as soon as I could with which date we should book. Now I needed to give Damon the choices and wait to find out which one worked better for him.

Having no idea if he was even in the office today or not, I sent him a quick e-mail saying I needed thirty seconds of his time, whenever he had a free moment. Hours passed with no reply. I thought that a bit odd, since even if he were out of the office, he would always check his messages on his Blackberry.

Finally, right before it was time to head home, I got a reply.

_In an all day meeting. Sorry. Try to find you tomorrow._

The next day Damon surprised me by showing up at my desk with no warning. I sucked in a deep breath of surprise when I looked up from my work and saw him standing there. He was wearing a suit. It was charcoal gray with thin pinstripes and it fit him impeccably. He'd set it off with an azure blue tie, which of course brought out the gorgeous color of his eyes. Damn. He looked good enough to eat. I was nearly drooling.

"Hey," I managed, just staring.

"Hey. You needed me for something?"

Blanking, I replied, "I did?"

"Your e-mail? From yesterday?" He grinned that disarming grin of his and I immediately overheated.

"Oh. Um." I paused. I couldn't exactly tell him the potential meet-up dates with Bonnie directly across the aisle and Tyler sitting on the other side of my cubicle wall. Thinking quickly, I grabbed a yellow Post-it note pad. I scrawled '_Sep 26 or Oct 10?_' on it and handed it to him, hoping he'd understand what those two dates meant.

"Right," I said, flashing a bright smile. "Sorry. Just wondered if you heard back from Fell and Sons yet? Did we get the account?"

Damon's eyebrows shot up as he looked down at the Post-It and then back up at me. His lips were twitching in amusement. My tongue absentmindedly darted out and licked my own lower lip in response. Realizing I was staring at his mouth, I raised my gaze.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he replied, "Yep. Just got the confirmation in this morning. Thanks for all your help."

With any luck Bonnie had overheard him thank me. It'd become really important to me that they start seeing Damon wasn't as bad as they all thought. "No problem," I said, returning his grin. It felt like our eyes were having a completely different conversation than our mouths. On impulse, I swept my hand in his direction and added, "You're looking very dapper today."

"I just got back from a client meeting in Roanoke. Very high-end law firm, so I thought I should dress the part. What do you think of the suit?" he asked me, still smiling away. It occurred to me that we almost always seemed to have massive smiles on our faces when we were around the other.

I'd seen Damon dressed in business casual many times before, with dress jackets on, and even in a tie a few times, but this was the first time I'd ever seen him wear something as professional as a suit. He looked like he just stepped out of an Armani ad. Drop dead gorgeous.

Chuckling softly, I scanned him up and down. Was that a blush I saw rising in his cheeks? "You look amazing," I admitted in a low voice. _And lickable._ My face felt hot. I wondered which of us was pinker.

I wouldn't have thought his grin could grow wider, yet at my words, it did. "Thanks. And I'll have an answer to you on your other question as soon as I can." He tucked the small yellow piece of paper into the pocket of his jacket. "Talk to you later, Elena." Then he winked at me and walked away.

* * *

I didn't end up speaking to Damon face to face again until a week later. After work the following Friday, he let me know he was in his office, so I popped by on my way out at four. I hated going an entire week without seeing him. It made me feel antsy.

As soon as we made eye contact, I felt some of my tension release. It was like my heart heaved a grateful sigh. Today he was wearing a burgundy golf shirt, unbuttoned at the throat. His eyes looked tired, but when he saw me his entire countenance brightened. Damon always had a smile for me and it made me happy from the tips of my toes up.

Instead of sitting down, I leaned against the credenza beside his desk. I couldn't stay long this time, as I had to get home and start dinner. For some crazy reason, Matt and I had invited both our families over tonight. Since my mother and his mother almost never saw eye-to-eye, I was already expecting it to be a tense evening.

"So," I started, as he grinned his trademark lopsided grin; the one that made those tiny butterflies whirl and dive around in my belly. "Any luck yet booking that client meeting?"

He broke our connection and looked down at something on his desk. "Not yet, no. So far the timing hasn't panned out. I'll keep trying, though."

I didn't know whether I felt more disappointed or relieved that nothing was firmly planned yet. It meant I could still brush away the reality of what we were talking about.

After I asked about James, Damon told me that his father had an appointment at the Cancer Center in Charlottesville on Monday and was returning this weekend with his as-yet-unmet half sister in tow.

"You have a sister? Wow. All these new family members! How've you been handling all this stuff?" I asked. I was still blown away by all the information he'd recently discovered.

"It's a lot to take in," he admitted. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything."

I shrugged. "Not surprising. So, what's he like?"

"James?"

"Yeah."

"He's…" Damon trailed off, thinking. "He's a lot like me," he finished with a tight smile. "We look similar, although his hair is lighter and has more gray. His eyes are just like mine. It seems we share a sense of humor, penchant for drink and, apparently, taste in women." He paused and gave me another one of those piercing looks.

Before I could comment, he continued, "He's stubborn and stoic and proud. And he loves his family unconditionally. I really hope you get to meet him at some point."

My eyebrows shot up. I wasn't sure how that could ever happen. "I hope I can, too," I answered honestly. "How old is your sister?"

"Twenty-six. Her name's Miriam. No husband or kids. That's literally all I know about her. But hopefully I'll get a chance to speak with her privately this weekend." His brow furrowed. I knew he was thinking about his father's failing health.

"You're really going to have a lot of your plate over the next while, Damon," I observed, casually and subtly offering him an out in case he was having seconds thoughts about us making plans to meet up.

"I know," he sighed. "But that's exactly why I need something to look forward to. A de-stressor." Ah, so he had understood the escape I'd just quietly given him. And declined it.

"You're gonna need to book a room with a Jacuzzi!" I laughed. Then I pressed my lips tightly together as I felt my cheeks begin to burn. What on God's earth was I saying? I'd meant to joke about him needing to relax, not to imply…well. Stuff.

"I've booked rooms so often with certain hotel chains that I usually get upgraded. Do you know I have never once been in a room in Richmond that had a Jacuzzi tub in it? Not sure if such rooms even exist in that city. Maybe we should be making plans in Roanoke or Norfolk instead? I bet I could find a hotel room with a Jacuzzi in those cities." He chuckled softly and wrote something down on a pad near his computer. A reminder to check with clients in other cities? I had no idea.

I made a non-committal reply about the different city idea and then explained I had to rush home because my parents were coming over, so we said our goodbyes and he assured me he'd let me know as soon as he figured out a date that would work.

Forty-five minutes later I was in my bedroom changing out of my work clothes, when something that seemed vitally important hit me. My eyes staring back at me from my dresser mirror went wide in shock. I fell heavily down onto the edge of my bed and flopped back onto the mattress. My hands covered my face. I had told Damon that Richmond would work because I had a place to stay, with my friend Amy. If he were seriously suggesting I go out drinking with him in a different city, then I'd have nowhere else to spend the night. I'd have to sleep in a hotel room,too. So, was he just musing out loud? Did he realize changing locations would mean I'd end up staying with him? Was that his intention all along? I exhaled loudly into my palms and told myself not to be so fricking naïve. Damon was a smart guy. He knew. He must have.

Which meant…which meant…

I gulped. Which could only mean that he wanted more than just friendship for our little night out. Which meant he felt this pull between us, too. And he wanted to act on it. Too.

My whole body was trembling. I couldn't seem to catch my breath for a few long moments. Suddenly every last element of our flirtation and all that had been hinted at felt exceptionally _real_.

* * *

**Damon**

It had been a long, stressful week and it wasn't even over yet. Andie and I had, for the most part, been avoiding any meaningful conversation with each other. We said what needed to be said, but very little more. Not another word had passed between us about her going to New York for three months if that mat-leave contract was formally offered. Most of the time I hoped it would all just blow over, but there were moments when I really stewed about it. When I actually wanted it to come up, wanted her to have to confront me with the fact that she'd chosen career over family yet again, wanted her to have to face telling Alexis her mother was leaving her for a long chunk of time. Selfish as hell of me, I know. But I hated this feeling like we were tiptoeing around each other. I was constantly on pins and needles around her, not knowing what she was thinking or when the ball was gonna drop. It seemed like my family was being torn apart slowly, in painstaking little increments. And I hated every goddamn second of it. Something sure as shit needed to happen soon – but fucked if I knew whether that _something_ was to wait and let things heal on their own or just rip off the proverbial band-aid and let 'er bleed.

The not knowing was driving me fucking bananas.

I'd spoken to James several days ago and told him about the appointment at the brain cancer center Andie had arranged for him. He was very grateful and called me back last night to tell me he'd be down tomorrow with Miriam. I'd insisted they both stay with us. Besides wanting them close, I also needed the distractions at home in the worst fucking way.

My workweek had been crazy as hell, too, with client meetings, never-ending department meetings and a golf tournament yesterday eating up all my time. I hadn't had a chance to see Elena since those fleeting few moments at her desk the week before. I swear my mind felt lighter when I got a hold of her before she left and she promised to stop by on her way out. I was stunned to realize how much I missed her when I hadn't seen her in a while. It felt like there was a hole in my life. When she stepped into my office and flashed that shy little smile of hers I loved so much, everything suddenly felt right again.

What that said about me and about my growing desire for her, I was scared shitless to delve too deeply into. I just knew for certain I wanted to be around her as much as possible.

Recently we'd been discussing meeting up for drinks in Richmond, and she'd even given me a couple of dates to work with. Though it had been my idea and there was no doubt in my mind that we'd have a great time, at the moment I was feeling conflicted as all hell. It was true I needed a time-out badly and I loved spending time with her. She made me laugh and relax like no other adult could. But I was no longer able to deny the major connection between us. She was incredibly sexy, yes, but there was so much more to it than that. I had feelings for this woman, real feelings, strong feelings. Everything was so much more fucking complicated now that I'd admitted that to myself. Though I knew it wasn't smart, I desperately wanted to spend time alone with her away from prying eyes. Problem was, if we did, especially if we went drinking, I wasn't sure I'd be strong enough to keep things strictly platonic. And if I slipped up and made a pass… Jesus. I could really fuck up _everything_. Everything. I'd probably ruin our friendship. And our working relationship. And if she told anyone, it could ruin lots of other things, too. I'd learned my lesson with Katherine. I couldn't destroy either my family or this precious thing I had with Elena. I wouldn't. Logically, I knew I should really take this …this…this 'attraction' I felt for her and bury it away.

So why exactly did I let my mouth run on about hotel rooms and Jacuzzis when she was in my office a few minutes ago? Did I have no self-control around Elena Gilbert? Cause, fuck, if that was true, then there was definitely no way we should be spending time alone together. I'd end up ruining everything. If I'd learned anything from the mistakes of my past, it was that I had a tendency to fuck up the good things in my life. I'd managed so well so far with Andie. I loved my daughter, and, though she was driving me batshit crazy these days, I still loved my wife, too.

No matter what I felt for Elena, I knew it could be a huge mistake to let it become something more. I really didn't want to lose either her friendship or her respect. I really didn't want to risk imploding my family. What I needed to do was smarten the fuck up. But how could I turn off what I felt without pushing Elena out of my life completely? That was the massive question I had no answer to right now.

My cell phone rang, startling me out of my maudlin thoughts.

"Damon?" an alarmed female voice shrieked. "Are you in your office? You need to get out into the parking lot right now!"

"Katherine?" Panic rose into my throat at her tone. "Why? What's going on?" Jumping to my feet, I grabbed my jacket and keys.

"It's Stefan! I found him in his car. And I can't…I can't wake him up!"

_Shit!_ I dashed out the door and down the hall, heading for the rear exit. "On my way! Is he breathing? Did you call 9-1-1?"

"Yes to both. I know he's been using again, Damon. What if he's OD'd?"

* * *

**A/N** _Yep, another cliffie. Sorry! I know many of you don't really care too much about Stefan, but don't forget, Damon very much does. Another big thank you to all of you that read and review and recommend this story to others. You guys are awesome! Special thanks to afanoftvd for betaing this chapter for me. Please let me know what you think by leaving a review in the little box below. Did you know you can still review even if you're not signed in to FF? I didn't, the first few months I used this site!  
_

_Follow me on twitter, tumblr or LiveJournel - all under elvishgrrl_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

**Damon**

I paced a worn out track on the linoleum of the waiting room at Lynchburg General Hospital, waiting impatiently to hear news about Stefan. Giuseppe sat nearby, alternating between flipping through scattered newspapers and watching the television mounted from the ceiling. Katherine was slumped in a hard-backed chair on the other side of the waiting room. She stared into space with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Every once in a while I heard her quietly sigh. I was restless; I couldn't sit down. Worry gripped me too tight.

Stefan was off somewhere beyond those swinging double doors having his stomach pumped. I felt like I'd assured every hospital employee that I'd talked to, not to mention Giuseppe at least twenty times, that my brother was _not_ suicidal. What happened had been an accident, a miscalculation, a massive fuck-up. I was sure they'd still insist he talk to a shrink after, but whatever fallout occurred from that little conversation would be entirely on him.

Giuseppe couldn't understand why Stefan still had painkillers to even inadvertently take too many of. He'd asked me some very valid questions, and frankly I was getting sick and fucking tired of having to cover up for my brother. I said the words, "I don't know. You'll have to ask Stefan that," over and over. I told him I didn't think Stefan was depressed and I was positive he hadn't been trying to take his own life. As expected, Giuseppe was pretty rattled by all this. He'd thought he knew his son so well; it was freaking him out to discover there were things – potentially dark things - his baby boy had kept well hidden from him.

I knew the feeling.

Eventually a stressed-looking nurse stepped into the waiting room. "Mr. Salvatore?" she asked. Giuseppe and I were immediately standing in front of the poor woman regarding her with anxious eyes. Katherine had perked up and focused her attention on us, listening carefully.

"Will my son be okay?" Giuseppe asked the woman.

"Can we see him now?" I interjected, before she could reply.

Her eyes shifted toward me briefly, then returned to him. "You're Stefan Salvatore's father?"

Giuseppe nodded.

"He'll live. He's asking for you." Her tone was irritated. Giuseppe and I simultaneously exhaled sighs of relief. She turned to lead the way and we both began to follow her. Turning back to me, she shook her head slightly. "I'm sorry, sir. The younger Mr. Salvatore was quite specific. Only his father."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Giuseppe glanced at me and nodded once, then proceeded down the long hallway after the nurse. I went over and dropped into a rigid orange plastic chair opposite Katherine. What a way to spend a Friday night.

"Ungrateful little prick," I muttered.

She looked up at me. At first she looked as relieved as I felt. Then I detected the same emotion I'd seen when I'd found her frantic beside Stefan's unresponsive body hours earlier. It was something I was sure I'd never seen in her eyes before: fear.

"He won't see either of us," she stated flatly. She sounded exhausted.

"Yeah, well. This time he's not gonna get what he wants. When Dad heads home, I'm going in." I flinched slightly when I referred to Giuseppe as 'Dad' to her, but she didn't know the truth, and frankly, old habits were hard to break.

Katherine straightened up in her chair, steely determination on her face. "I'm going with you," she told me firmly.

I just shrugged. Honestly, I really didn't give a shit if she tagged along or not. She knew his little secret now.

Speaking of which. "You told me you knew he'd been using again. How'd you figure that out?"

She looked me straight in the eyes and pursed her lips. "I know him, Damon. Better than anyone."

I started to point out that she was living in Denial Land, to remind her that those days were long past, but then I stopped myself. What the fuck did I know? Maybe she was right. Maybe she did still know him better than anyone, even now.

"So you're telling me you just knew? Some sort of psychic connection between you and my dumbass baby brother, is that it?" I smirked.

She ignored my jibe. "I started getting suspicious a couple months ago. He was clearly out of it when I phoned one night. Called him on it face to face the next day and he denied everything of course. But I'm not an idiot; I've seen the signs before. I knew he's been getting high again, but what could I do? He refused to let me help."

I tilted my head at her skeptically. "Clearly you are, actually, an idiot, Katherine. If you were so worried, why didn't you come to me about it?"

"Since when do you ever give a crap about my issues? Or his? You washed your hands of us both a long time ago, as I remember it."

"Is that what you really think? You couldn't be more wrong." A nasty headache was pulsating beneath the pads of my fingers as I rubbed my forehead. This day could not end soon enough.

She lifted an eyebrow at me expectantly, clearly waiting for me to elaborate. I thought about Stefan's fuck-up today and how it could have so easily cost him his life. And I wondered how long he might have lain there, slumped over the steering wheel of his car, if she hadn't come along and checked on him. But we _did_ find him in time and there was (apparently) no lasting damage done. My brother was still breathing and I owed that to entirely to her. So I heaved a heavy, mock-put-upon sigh and then quietly explained to her how I'd been helping him every time he'd fallen off the wagon since the day he moved out of their house and out of his marriage.

When I finished detailing our little showdown in his office a couple weeks ago, leaving out the part about James of course, she was staring at me in shock.

"Did it ever once cross your tiny little mind that you covering up for him all those times and not telling anyone was doing him a massive disservice? He needs help! And he was never gonna get it if you kept making the problem go away. You wanna know why he keeps falling off the wagon? Cause there's never been any consequences to it! No reason for him to want to try to stay clean! God, Damon, I can't believe you. You were basically enabling him for _years_!"

"Keep your voice down, Katherine," I warned her, glancing around the otherwise empty waiting room nervously. You never knew when a nurse might pop in, and Giuseppe could return at any moment.

"I did what I thought was best for my brother," I gritted out through clenched teeth. "I didn't want Dad to find out, or any of his friends or co-workers. I made sure he didn't lose his job. It was what Stefan wanted. I was trying to protect him."

"Protect him from what?" she asked incredulously. "Himself?"

Pressing my lips together, I focused on a dirty smudge on the floor below my tightly clamped fingers. "Something like that," I muttered.

Katherine was still glaring coldly at me. "Then this is as much your fault as it is his, Damon. The both of you are fucking imbeciles. You act like you hate one another, but neither of you can function without the other. You'd both do anything for each other. It's kinda pathetic." The she smiled ruefully and shook her head. "I wish I had family that cared about me as much as you and Giuseppe care about Stefan."

I scrubbed my hands over my face and through my hair. Sighing, I responded, "I wish my brother would forgive me for sleeping with his girlfriend that one time so long ago. I wish my father didn't think I was completely useless. I wish…" I paused and took a breath, shaking the image of Elena's smile from my mind and re-gathering my thoughts. "I wish a lot of things, Katherine. We just have to live with the choices we make and the hand life deals us."

Giuseppe chose that moment to step back into the waiting room. Katherine and I both stood up and walked over to him.

"How's he doing?" she asked quietly.

Gruffly, he replied, "He'll be fine. He can probably go home tomorrow. They have to run some tests on his kidneys in the morning to make sure the drugs didn't damage them. And he has to talk to the in-house psychiatrist. If he gives the okay, then Stefan should be released before the end of the day."

"I'll pick him up," I offered.

"That's okay. I'll get him. He's coming home with me for the weekend. He shouldn't be left alone just yet." Giuseppe sounded weary and every last one of his sixty years.

"He can stay with us. I'll keep an eye on him."

"No, Damon. He's coming with me. End of story. I'm heading home to get some rest – I suggest you both do the same." He darted a glance between us that made me wonder if he assumed I was still sleeping with Katherine on the side, even now. To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me. Now there was a depressing thought. He pulled on his coat and walked out the door at the far end of the room that led to the elevators.

The moment Giuseppe disappeared I headed for the double doors leading to the patient recovery rooms, with Katherine hot on my heels. Neither of us had any clue which room Stefan was in, but we were bound and determined we'd find him.

A bleached blonde nurse of approximately retirement age stopped us before we got very far past the waiting lounge. "Can I help you two?" she asked us suspiciously.

I flashed her one of my patented panty-dropping smiles and turned up the charm. Glancing at her name badge pinned to her generous chest, I replied, "Yes, actually, _Velma_. Can you please help us find the room my brother is recovering in? Stefan Salvatore?"

"And you are?" She tried to sound put out and official but she couldn't stop herself from returning my grin.

I stared directly into her heavily lined and mascarad blue eyes. "Damon Salvatore. And this lovely lady beside me is Stefan's wife, Katherine."

The nurse glanced over at Katherine, her smile faltering slightly. "Oh, Mrs. Salvatore. Right this way. Your husband is in room forty-eight." And just like that, she led us both directly to Stefan. Easy-peasy.

Stefan looked over groggily as we entered the room. It was sterile-smelling and cramped, with a bed, a side-table and two chairs taking up most of the space. He was pale as a vampire and there were dark hollows under both eyes. Oxygen tubes fed up his nose and another intravenous one was taped to one hand. Black smudges of charcoal still stained his lips. My brother looked like he'd been through hell. Which, I suppose, he kind of had.

Katherine went straight to the chair closest to him and reached over to clasp his hand. "Oh, Stefan," I heard her murmur. "What did you do to yourself? You scared the shit out of me, you know." Her eyes glistened and I knew she was holding back tears. I realized in that split second that she was still very much in love with my baby brother. So she wasn't a bitter, empty shell after all. Who would have thought?

I decided to make my visit a quick one and then leave the two of them alone. Perching myself on the side of his bed, I smirked down at him. "You know, brother, if you wanted our attention, there was no need to be so dramatic. A simple phone call would've sufficed."

His eyelids fluttered a bit as he tried to focus on me. A small smile curved the corners of his mouth upward. "Was…was an accident." His voice was creaky and rough. I figured his throat was abraded from the tube they'd rammed down it to pump his stomach out.

"Oh, I know. I know it was." I put one hand on his shoulder. "Believe it or not, I'm not gonna yell at you for scaring the ever-living fuck outta us. By the looks of you, I'm sure you already feel shitty enough. But I warned you this could happen, and I wouldn't be me if I didn't say I told you so."

"So sorry, Damon," he whispered. He began to cough and Katherine grabbed a tissue from the small bedside table and brought it to his mouth, gently wiping off as much of the charcoal as she could, much like a mother would a messy toddler. She glared at me as she stood up to drop it into the wastebasket.

"I know you're sorry, Stef. But now the cat's out of the bag. You're gonna have some explaining to do to Dad." I glanced over at Katherine, before returning my gaze to him. "She saved your life today, you know. You owe her one. And I told her everything about your little problem. So maybe the two of you should talk?"

Standing up to leave, I patted him on the knee. "See you tomorrow, brother."

As I turned to go, I heard him mumble my name.

"Damon?"

I looked back at him, one brow arched questioningly.

"Thank you," he croaked.

Suddenly my throat got way too tight. I'd almost lost my brother today. This close call had been way _too_ fucking close. Brushing him off, I muttered, "Thank her." Then I made tracks out of there as fast as I could.

When I got down to the parking garage and started my car's engine, the image of him slumped over his steering wheel as we'd found him earlier popped into my mind. And I just fucking lost it. I leaned back into the leather seat and squeezed my eyelids tightly shut, but couldn't stem my tears from escaping. The little shit had almost offed himself. If Katherine hadn't discovered him when she did… Fuck. I'd never been so terrified in my entire life.

Whether he hated me or not, whether he ever forgave me or not, whether we were full brothers or not – none of it made one goddamn speck of difference anymore. I just needed my little brother alive.

* * *

**Elena**

Dinner with my parents and Kelly and Vickie Donovan on Friday night went as well as could be expected. Matt's mom only asked us when we were going to start a family once, which was minimal for her these days. My own mother jumped in to defend my ambiguous reply by assuring her I was making the right choice to concentrate on my career. I sipped my wine and silently watched with growing distaste the two of them debate the appropriate timing of my future parenthood. Six months or so ago, I would have found this conversation slightly uncomfortable, yet amusing. But now listening to Miranda and Kelly argue over my choices like I wasn't even there made me feel like some sort of doll, just here to fulfill their desires for me. Matt was trying to ignore them by chatting with his sister as if the louder discussion wasn't even taking place. My dad reached over below the edge of the table and patted my knee. Giving me a sympathetic look, he asked if I needed help cleaning up and followed me into the kitchen.

"Just ignore them, "Lena. They only want what they think is best for you," he said quietly, as I began to rinse off a dirty plate.

"I know, Daddy. I just feel like they've both got my future all figured out. But how can they, when I haven't?" Shutting off the tap, I braced my fingers against the countertop and stared out the window into the night.

He put a warm hand on my shoulder. "You will. You'll know what to do when it feels right. Just trust your gut. It's never guided you wrong before, has it?"

"I guess not. But I'm scared. What if I make the wrong choices?"

"There are no 'wrong' choices. There are only different choices, which lead you down different paths. The choice you make is the one you were supposed to make, at that time. The path you don't take is the one you were never meant to be on. You just have to believe in yourself, hon."

God, my dad was a wise man. "I know. But sometimes it's just so hard," I complained, pressing my lips tightly together.

"Yes, it is. Being an adult is hard. You don't have your parents making decisions for you anymore; you have to do it yourself. But you know I believe in you."

I hugged him and thanked him, and we washed up the dishes together and talked about lighter things.

No other awkwardness went down after dinner and by the time I started getting ready for bed, I was no longer dwelling on either my mother or mother-in-law's wishes for my life. I half expected that Matt might bring up the 'baby' topic again, but he didn't. At least not then.

He briefly commented that I'd been looking tired lately, but that was the only thing he said to imply he'd observed any changes in either my appearance or mental state. To be honest, I assumed he noticed more than he let on. He'd known me longer and better than nearly anyone, with the exception of my father. I assured him I was fine and to my relief he let it drop.

Before I drifted off to sleep, I thought about Damon. And I thought about my father's words.

I knew the path I wanted to take. I no longer doubted how I felt. But it still terrified me.

* * *

**Damon**

I didn't sleep much that night, and when I did, reoccurring nightmares never let it last long. I must have had at least five or six different dreams of not getting to Stefan in time, of finding him behind the wheel, or slumped over his desk, or sprawled across his kitchen floor, face gray and eyes empty. Eventually I gave up even trying and retreated downstairs to numb my brain in front of the television until the rising sun woke Alexis and I could step into Daddy-mode.

James and Miriam arrived on the eleven-twenty flight from Buffalo, and all three of us met them at the airport. My half-sister had dyed violently red hair, hazel eyes and a shitload of piercings. Her short hair framed a pretty heart-shaped face. She was a small girl, and her all black outfit and heavy combat boots made her appear even smaller. My first impression was that she looked nothing like James, but when he introduced us, she smiled at me and their resemblance became clear.

"Nice to finally meet you, Damon," she told me politely, as James went to retrieve their bags from the carousel. Even her perfect white teeth were small.

"You, too," I replied, taking her outstretched hand. Her fingernails were neatly trimmed, and adorned with screaming neon-green polish. I wondered if she really had a chip on her shoulder or if her aggressive appearance was all just for show?

Alexis held on tight to my hand, nervous to meet this strange woman who had arrived with Grandpa James. Miriam kneeled in front of her and looked her in the eyes.

"You must be Alexis! I've heard so much about you," she smiled. "I'm your auntie Miriam." Alexis tucked herself firmly against my side.

"Say hello, honey," I urged her. At that moment, James returned with their baggage. I felt Alexis' body relax when she noticed him.

"Grandpa!" she squealed, ignoring Miriam in favor of the man who'd played Barbies with her not long ago. She pulled away from us and promptly flung herself into his waiting arms.

I turned to my half-sister. "Don't mind her. She'll warm up to you soon. She's just shy at first." Seeing that James had already picked her up and was twirling her around, I added, "Well, normally."

Andie was watching James and Alexis as closely as I was. I introduced her to Miriam, picked up my sister's suitcase and then the five of us were on our way.

We took them to lunch, and afterward gave them a driving tour of Lynchburg and a walk through Riverside Park before heading back to the house.

Miriam immediately set about making herself at home. After tossing her bag into the smaller of our two spare rooms, she began to peruse our CD collection in the living room, making clicking noises with her tongue as she scanned the titles. At one point she informed me playfully that I needed a musical re-education and she'd e-mail me some links to her favorite bands. I laughed as I thought of the mixed CD that Elena had made me sitting inside the glove compartment of my car. I decided I'd have to take Miriam for a drive in the Camaro at some point and see if she liked Elena's choices any better than the stuff she'd found in my living room. Andie's tastes ran more to modern country, which I could put up with, but would never be my first choice. From her reactions to what she'd seen, I suspected Miriam was also not a fan.

There was no opportunity to speak with her alone that night. After we got Alexis to bed, the four of us opened a bottle of wine and chatted about our careers and back-stories for a few hours. I could tell James was fading fast, and since the two of them had been up since dawn, they both apologized before heading off to bed early. I told Andie I'd clean up and she, too, went upstairs. She and I were still ignoring the New York-shaped elephant in the room, which mostly meant avoiding any unnecessary conversation with each other. It was awkward as hell, but I didn't know what else to do about it. This time it was all on her.

I checked in with Giuseppe, and learned Stefan had been released into his care around dinnertime. He had to go back in on Wednesday to discuss the results of his psych eval. I told Giuseppe I'd take Stefan for that, and surprisingly he didn't argue with me. It crossed my mind that perhaps he was afraid to find out the results.

Since all the various people I had to worry about were safe and sound for the moment, I took a moment to sit back and just breath. I had no idea what kind of shitstorm the next few days might bring, but right at the moment I felt like I was up to dealing with it.

* * *

On Sunday morning, Andie got a phone call and then informed me she was heading to Mystic Falls to help out her mom for the afternoon. Instead of letting her go alone, like she'd been intending, I decided James and Miriam would enjoy seeing a bit more of Virginia and piled us all into my wife's car.

After a short introduction, we left Andie with her mother and I gave them a tour of Mystic Falls, at least as well as I could, since I'd never actually lived there myself. Andie had asked me to take Alexis with us, which she was all for. My daughter and her new grandfather had been thick as thieves since he'd arrived. I doubted she even noticed that Mommy wasn't in the car anymore as we backed down the driveway.

James and Alexis played "I Spy" in the backseat and Miriam sat in the front beside me. Adopting my best Tour Guide persona, I showed them what I knew, which wasn't all that much: mostly the historic downtown, with the Mystic River winding through it. Miriam rolled her window down and snapped photos with her iPhone of whatever caught her eye as I slowly drove. I had intended to keep going out to the wooded park at the outskirts of town where the waterfall was – it was picturesque as hell - but before we were even past the large white Doric columns of the Town Hall, Alexis loudly informed the entire car that she was starving.

I pulled into an empty space I spotted in front of the Mystic Grill. "You guys ready for a lunch break?" I asked, to a chorus of agreement.

We grabbed a booth near the front and settled in, Alexis insisting she sit between James and me. Miriam watched her with amusement. I'm not sure she knew exactly what to make of my little princess yet.

I had a direct view of the bar from where I sat. As we waited for someone to bring us menus, I noticed a couple back there, the man leaning against the polished wood and the woman perched beside him on a barstool. She had long dark hair that obscured the side of her face as she chatted with the bartender. From behind she reminded me a lot of…

Across the busy restaurant I caught the musical notes of her laugh and I froze, momentarily mesmerized.

Elena.

I jerked my eyes away as a cute blonde waitress arrived at our table with menus. When she left to get our drinks, I found myself unable to resist stealing glances at the man with his elbows braced on the bar. Elena's husband was tall, with dirty blond hair. He had broad shoulders and an athletic build, and he wore a plain gray t-shirt and jeans. What was it she'd said he did? Taught at the high school? Yeah, that was it. In the auto-shop. So he was a blue-collar kind of man's man. Huh. I wondered if that was the type of guy she was attracted to - the simple jock type. While I had enjoyed team sports years ago, these days I was more of a golfing in the summer, skiing weekends in the winter kind of guy. And my collars had sure as hell never been of the blue variety.

After the waitress returned balancing a tray laden with glasses and we gave her our lunch orders, Alexis pulled on my sleeve. She drew my head down to hers and informed me in her loud child's whisper that she 'needed to pee!' Miriam smiled at us and offered to take her to the ladies room, but I declined, knowing my daughter still wasn't comfortable enough to go off alone with her brand new auntie.

When her needs were met and we exited the restroom, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. I turned around curiously and saw Elena standing in the hallway. She stared at me in shock.

"Damon?" She flicked her eyes down to Alexis, then back up to me. "What are…what are you doing here?"

I smiled at the sight of her. "Elena. Fancy meeting you here. I dropped Andie off at her mother's and was giving my father and sister a tour while we killed time waiting for her." Shrugging, I added, "We got hungry."

Alexis tugged on my pant leg to get my attention. "Daddy? Who's that lady?"

Startled, I broke my gaze away from Elena's and looked down at my little one's curious face. "Alexis, I want you to meet someone. This is my friend Elena."

"Elena, this is the love of my life, my daughter Alexis."

Elena still had that deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression. She blinked, then seemed to come back to herself. Squatting to Alexis' height, she smiled at her. "I'm so pleased to meet you, Alexis." Elena held out her hand. Alexis was not used to people treating her like a big girl and wanting to shake her hand, but she smiled back and cautiously extended her small fingers to Elena's.

When Alexis remained silent for a few moments, I offered quietly, "She's shy."

"Alexis, you are a very pretty girl. You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. They're just like your Daddy's," Elena told her.

My daughter's smile faltered a bit and her little eyebrows drew together. "Everyone always says I have Daddy's eyes. But they're not! He's got his own!"

Any tension she may have been feeling seemed to melt away and Elena broke out laughing. I chuckled along with her. Alexis looked between us, not understanding the joke.

Elena glanced up at me, before returning her attention to the confused little girl in front of her. "You're absolutely right. He's got his own. Your eyes are unique, just like you are. I'm sorry - I don't know what I was thinking."

"That's okay," Alexis replied, right back to happy again.

Elena rose to her feet and looked at me. "It was great to run into you, but Matt and I are waiting for take-out, and it's probably ready by now. I should get back to the bar and pay."

"Understood," I replied, with a small nod.

"It was wonderful meeting you, Alexis," Elena told my daughter. "Your daddy is gonna be in for a world of trouble when you get older. All the boys will fall in love with you the moment they meet you."

Alexis stared up at her and screwed up her small face. "No, they won't! Ewww."

"That's right," I chimed in. "Boys are icky. Right, Lex?"

"Icky-sticky," she agreed solemnly.

"Except your Daddy," Elena said. Again, we stared into each other's eyes. She seemed a bit troubled. Not for the first time, I wished I knew what was going on inside her head.

"See you next week," she told me, and waggled her fingers at Alexis as she left the back hallway to return to the bar and her waiting husband. Something clenched inside me as she walked away from us, like she was taking something vital with her as she went. Something I desperately wanted to keep.

As I took Alexis' hand and began walking back to our booth, she whispered, "Daddy, I like her. She's really pretty."

"Yes, she is, honey. And I do, too," I whispered back. The question was, what was I going to do about it?

* * *

**A/N** _Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews and recommendations to your friends! I have to call out scarlett2112 for an extra special thanks for pre-reading the hospital part of this chapter at the beginning and letting me know I captured everything correctly and to afanoftvd for proofreading. Please let me know what you think of this chapter - I have to say I loved writing this one and hope you like it as much as I do. Happy Mother's Day to those with kids who celebrate it this weekend! _


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

**Elena**

Running into Damon and his daughter in the back hallway of the Grill had rattled me. When I got back to the bar, Matt was waiting with a large paper bag full of hot food, so I quickly paid our bill. As we hurried out of there, I shot a sideways glance at the booth Damon and his family occupied. I only caught a quick glimpse of his father, but I saw right away that Damon's description of James was spot on. He looked very much like his son, only older, grayer and with more hollowed cheekbones. Damon's half-sister had short, bright red hair and wore a black leather jacket; that was all I had time to notice about her.

I was quiet on the drive home, completely lost in thought. I didn't even sing along when one of my favorite Interpol songs came on the radio.

"Something wrong, 'Lena?" Matt asked me, glancing over.

_Everything,_ I thought, staring unseeingly out the passenger window. _Everything is so wrong._

Out loud, I replied, "No, why do you ask?"

He shot me another look before returning his eyes to the road ahead. "You were in good mood when we got to the Grill. Now you're not. What changed?"

I mentally scrolled through a selection of possible answers to that question. I didn't like any of them. Telling him the truth was just not an option.

"I…" I faltered, sighing. "I don't know, Matty. Just…just tired I guess."

"You've been tired a lot lately," he observed.

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together for a moment. Finally I simply said, "I know."

We pulled into our driveway and he grabbed the bag of take-out and went into the house without pressing me more about it.

I ate a little, but my hunger had ebbed away along with my cheerful mood. When I got up to rinse off my plate, he commented, "You haven't been eating much lately, either. Are you sick?"

"No. I don't know. Maybe." I kept my back to him as I put my dirty dishes in the sink.

"Maybe?" I realized he was now standing right behind me. Putting his hands on my shoulders, he turned me around so he could look me straight in the eyes. "What's going on, Elena? You haven't been yourself for weeks now. Tell me, so I can help you."

Before I could formulate a reply, his eyes suddenly grew wide and a huge smile broke across his face. "Are you…? Baby, are you pregnant?" He looked so damn happy at the thought.

I took in the excited expression on his face and promptly burst into tears. "No! No, no," I cried, shaking my head wildly. "I know you wish I was, but I'm not. Sorry to disappoint you."

Matt immediately pulled me tight against him and wrapped his arms around me. "You're not disappointing me. It just crossed my mind that maybe…" He trailed off, sighing softly. "Anyway. _I'm_ sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusion."

I extracted myself from him. "I know you want to be a dad, Matt. I know you do. I just…it's just not in the cards for me right now."

For a few moments he was silent. Then, quietly, he said, "Tell me something honestly, Elena. Have you changed your mind? Do you even want to have kids at all?"

I looked down at the floor. "I don't know," I whispered to the blue tiles.

"You don't know? " He put his hand under my chin and tilted it up so that I had to look back at him. Tears still rolled silently down my cheeks. "Are you sure about that?"

I felt like the worst wife, the worst friend in the entire world. I wanted so badly to lie to him right now. To say something that would make him happy. But I couldn't. This was Matt. My Matt. The handsome football player with the goofy sense of humor who had won my heart when I was a seventeen-year-old cheerleader. My first love, my first lover, my husband. He deserved the truth.

"I can't…" My voice cracked as a sob roughly pushed its way through. I forced the rest of my words out in a gasp. "I can't…can't…can't even imagine having a child." I did not add "with you" onto the end of that sentence. I wouldn't be that cruel.

He hugged me to him again, smoothing his fingers down my hair as my tears dampened the shoulder of his t-shirt. "Shhh, shhh. It's okay. Don't cry," he soothed.

"It's not okay," I sobbed. "It's not. It's the exact opposite of okay. You should find a woman who wants to have babies with you, Matty. You deserve that."

He pulled back and looked into my streaming eyes. "Don't say that, 'Lena. The only woman I want is you. Always you. I love you."

_Oh God_. He was being so damn understanding and I didn't deserve any of it. I felt about an inch tall. I couldn't stand it anymore; I pulled away from him and fled up the stairs, weeping the whole way. I went straight to our bedroom and dove under the covers, hoping against hope that Matt would give me some space to cry myself out in peace.

He did. One thing I'd always been able to count on him to do was to give me time alone when I really needed it.

When my sobbing finally died down to sticky eyes and hiccups, I got up and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth. When I returned, Matt was lying on his side of the bed, television remote in hand.

I slipped under the covers beside him. "I'm sorry," I told him softly. My voice sounded raw, like it wasn't mine. Like a stranger's.

"Nothing to be sorry about. I know this has been bothering you for a long time. You need to remember that you're not your mother. Or mine. You're a grown woman and you get to make your own choices. You don't have to get pregnant just because they want you to, or because you think it's what I want. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me for the long haul." He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead before flicking on the TV.

I wish I could say that his words made me feel better, as he intended them to, but unfortunately they only made things worse. A light wave of nausea swept over me and I could feel a new batch of tears threatening, so I whispered goodnight to him and turned over to face the edge of the bed.

I stared at the wall through two sitcoms and part of a late night talk show before Matt at last switched off the television and rolled over to go to sleep. Then I listened to the sound of his snoring for another hour before I gave up and made my way back downstairs yet again.

Once I was wrapped in the blanket and curled up facing the back of the couch, alone in the rec room with only the sound of occasional cars passing outside on our street to listen to, I finally fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

I dreamt about Damon last night. And the night before that. And the night before that one, too. This was turning into a dangerous habit. Thank God I don't talk in my sleep. In the most recent one, he, Alexis and I were living together like a normal happy family. The version of me in that dream was really comfortable being both Damon's wife and Alexis's stepmother. Since in my waking hours I couldn't even imagine playing the mom role in any capacity, I was surprised when I woke up and remembered how natural it had felt.

I ended up spending the entire night in the rec room, awakening only when the rising sun streamed through the window and across my face sometime before six in the morning. I was the first in the shower and had breakfast ready by the time Matt came down into the kitchen, which was unusual during the school year. He didn't question my early rising, or bring up our difficult conversation of the night before, both of which I was grateful for.

When I got into work, I pulled out my phone to text Amy that I still didn't know which date for a visit worked yet, but that I'd try to get an answer this week or we could pick a weekend further away. Before I could open a new message, I saw that I'd received one from Damon last night and my pulse jumped. His text had no words, just two photos attached. One was a really cute shot of Alexis sitting on James' lap, both sets of clear blue eyes focused on Damon behind the camera. The second was an image of Damon, Alexis and James together, all with matching smiles. Damon looked so happy that I grinned from ear to ear when I saw it. I was secretly pleased as I realized that I now had a photo of him of my very own to pull up whenever I wanted to see his face.

I had no problem diving into my to-do list this morning. Concentrating on what needed to get done enabled me to push all negative thoughts about my marriage and positive thoughts about a certain Account Manager to the back of my mind.

A deep yawn overtook me, and as I looked up from my calculations, I realized it was nearly noon. Tyler was home sick, or possibly hung over, not sure which, so the rest of us had split up his work. The extra caseload had kept me occupied and made the hours zoom by.

I printed off the spreadsheet I'd just completed, and as I tucked it into the case file, Bonnie called my name. I looked up, startled. Realizing we were running late for lunch, we both knew we'd better move our butts or we'd get an earful about it. We hurried to meet Caroline; we were fully aware of how much she hated sitting there all by herself.

The cafeteria was swarming with people and the loud din of overlapping conversations. "Hey," Caroline greeted us, as we sat down across from her with our trays of food. She had a somber expression on her face, which was highly unusual for the normally cheerful blonde.

"What's up?" Bonnie asked, noticing her demeanor.

"You guys haven't heard about Stefan?" She turned to me. "Damon didn't tell you anything?"

I shook my head. "I haven't spoken to him today. What's going on, Care? What happened to Stefan?"

She leaned forward and whispered confidentially, "Apparently Damon and Katherine found him unconscious in the parking lot Friday after work. They had to rush him to the hospital!"

"What? You're kidding?" Bonnie exclaimed, forgetting to lower her voice in her obvious surprise. "Is he okay?"

Caroline looked worried. "It sounds like he's gonna be fine. Giuseppe took Stefan back to his place when he was released on Saturday. As far as I know, he's still there. Sounds like he might not be in the office for the rest of the week. I probably shouldn't even be taking a lunch break today, but I really needed to get away from my phone for a few minutes."

"What happened?" I asked her quietly. 'Do you know?" I had a sinking feeling in my gut that I already knew the answer to that question.

"No clue," she replied. "No one seems to know, and Giuseppe wouldn't say when he called me." Then she looked pointedly at me. "You're friendly with Damon, right? Maybe he'd tell you?"

I frowned. If what I suspected was the reason for Stefan's collapse, I wasn't sure Damon would share that kind of immensely private stuff with me. Maybe. He'd told me a lot of personal things already, so it was possible. But even if he did, I had no intention of babbling to Caroline or anyone else. I knew Caroline was just concerned about Stefan –anxiety was written all over her face – but if she found out the truth, it needed to come from Stefan, himself. Not me.

"I don't know, Care. I don't think he'd volunteer personal info like that to me. But next time I see him, I'll ask how Stefan is doing, okay?' Which was only a partial lie, as I thought there was a small chance Damon might confide in me. But the only reason I knew his brother might have a drug problem in the first place was because I'd heard Katherine accuse Stefan of being high that day in the file room a few months back. It wasn't because of anything Damon had told me. However, if Damon didn't know about the addiction before, he surely did by now. My heart ached for him. He had enough to deal with right now without adding this to his already crowded plate.

Caroline was clearly stressed out and lunch was a shortened affair, as she had to head back to her desk as soon as she finished eating. I couldn't help but be worried for both Salvatore brothers, now that I knew something major had gone down after I'd left Damon's office on Friday. Katherine had kept her office door closed all morning, too – a clear sign she didn't want to be disturbed. I suspected she was pretty worried about Stefan, too. And God forbid she showed any sign of weakness to the rest of us.

The remainder of the afternoon I was distracted thinking about what might have happened to Stefan a few days ago. I was restless; I kept getting up and moving around, switching between tasks. Three times I called Damon's office, but it went straight to voice-mail each time. I didn't leave any messages. After the third failed attempt to reach him, I remembered he'd told me he was taking James to Charlottesville early this morning to see a specialist. So maybe he wouldn't be back in the office at all. That made sense.

But I was incredibly anxious to know what really went down with Stefan, and how Damon was dealing with it. On my way out, I deliberately walked through the Marketing department toward the rear exit on the off chance I might catch Damon in his office at the end of the day.

I managed to luck out; he was actually behind his desk. I heard his voice before I even stepped into the doorframe, and warm pleasure spread through me. He was on the phone and he didn't sound too impressed with the person on the other end. But as soon as he saw me standing there, a real smile surfaced. It gave me a little thrill deep inside that he always seemed as happy to see me as I was to see him.

When I inquired about Stefan, he stood up and closed his door behind us. I took my usual seat and he began to tell me what went down. I got the impression he'd been bottling this all in from the way his words just seemed to spill from his mouth. He didn't hesitate to tell me everything, starting with the back-story about his brother's knee injury so long ago. Then he explained all he had done over the years to try to keep Stefan off the painkillers he'd become addicted to, and finished by detailing the accidental overdose last Friday.

It was clear how much of a toll Friday's events had taken on Damon. When he admitted to me how scared he'd been that his brother was going to die in the parking lot before the ambulance arrived, I stood up and walked over to him, eliminating the barrier of his desk between us.

Placing my hand on top of his, I softly asked, "Are you okay, Damon?"

He stared down at where our hands touched. Embarrassed, I realized what I'd done and I drew my fingers back.

"I'm fine," he said, a little gruffly. "I was less fine at the time, but now…now, I'm okay."

I chewed my lower lip, doubting the truth of his words. Awkwardness seemed to fill the room, and I didn't like it. Not at all. I resumed my seat and looked at him, but now he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"What about James? How did his specialist appointment go this morning?"

He glanced up at me, finally. "You remembered that?"

I nodded, intertwining my fingers tightly together to prevent them from fidgeting.

"They poked and prodded him and ran a bunch of tests. Now we wait for results."

Damon definitely wasn't himself today. I assumed worrying about Stefan and James all weekend had drained him of his usual spark. Deciding that maybe my presence wasn't making things any easier, I grabbed my purse and got up to leave.

"I hope they find some way to help him," I told him honestly. "And I hope Stefan gets the help he really needs as well."

He nodded, getting to his feet to reach for the doorknob. Before he could open it, I did something I swear I wasn't planning to do. Completely on impulse, I reached my arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. It was a quick one, the hug of a friend comforting another friend, but in those few seconds of pressing myself to him, every nerve ending in my body sang.

As I stepped back, I whispered, "Just don't forget to take care of yourself, too, Damon."

Then I swiftly opened his office door and left.

* * *

The rest of the week passed without incident, or any more communication from Damon. I presumed the first date I'd given him, September twenty-sixth, wasn't going to work out for us to go to Richmond, as it was less than a week away and I'd heard nothing. Which left October tenth. Maybe.

When the following week also went by without any direct communication at all from him, I began to assume the second date wasn't going to fly either. I knew Damon's life was crazy right now, so I wasn't really surprised, but I was disappointed he didn't at least let me know that our plans weren't going to happen anytime soon.

Finally I broke down and e-mailed him, because the not knowing for sure was driving me up the wall.

_The meeting times I inquired about a few weeks ago? Can I assume they're both in conflict with other scheduling?_

I didn't hear back from him until the following day.

_Yeah, sorry. That isn't looking feasible right now._

My stomach dropped as I read his words. I don't know why; I can't say that I wasn't expecting it. I can't even say there wasn't a part of me that was a bit relieved, as the layers of guilt had only been growing deeper lately. But to be honest, a much larger part of me was disappointed.

Things hadn't felt right between us since I'd spontaneously hugged him. There had been no office visits, no cubicle drop-ins, no random phone calls or e-mails just to see how I was. I'd passed him in the hallway once and he'd smiled and said hello, but he hadn't stopped to chat.

I suspected I was overanalyzing things to death, but I just couldn't help it. I didn't want to regret the hug – he'd looked like he needed one and friends offer comfort to friends. But I was really worried that I'd screwed up and crossed some imaginary line Damon had created in his mind. Maybe all his talk of us going out drinking together was just that – talk. Maybe he'd never really intended to actually go through with it. Maybe he had no idea how much his flirtatious words messed with my head.

My logical brain assured me that he was probably just really wrapped up in his personal life and his clients right now, and simply didn't have any time to spare. I knew it was the most likely explanation.

But God, whether it was real or imagined, this distance between us lately really unsettled me.

* * *

Several more days crawled by. I still hadn't heard anything from Damon and I worried maybe the closeness we used to share might now be gone for good. I wanted to make things right in the worst way, but had no idea what had gone wrong or how to fix it.

I was sitting in Alaric's office, just finished discussing one of Carol Lockwood's clients that he'd helped me work out some complicated pricing for. Columbus Day weekend was fast approaching and Ric was telling me about his plans to whisk Jenna away to some secluded Bed and Breakfast cabin in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

"Are you gonna propose?" I wondered, with a massive grin. I was only half-teasing.

Ric's eyes bugged out comically. "No! Well…not yet anyway. Things are going great though. It could happen." He smiled. "Who knows? Maybe by Christmas."

I laughed. It was good to see him so happy. Abruptly changing the subject, I asked, "Have you talked to Damon lately?"

His face grew serious. "Yes, actually. Why?"

I shrugged. "No real reason, I guess. I just haven't in a while." I tried to sound nonchalant.

"You two are pretty close these days, huh?" he observed.

"Yes. I guess. Well, I'd thought so. I've barely spoken to him the last few weeks though. I do know he's got a lot on his plate right now. Just wondered if you knew how he's doing?"

Ric gave me a look. "You should probably ask him that yourself, you know."

"I know," I replied, sighing. "There just hasn't been an opportunity."

He stood up and closed the door to his office. Turning to me, he asked, "What's going on, Elena? I know something is. He asks me about you. You ask me about him. You don't seem to be talking to each other right now for some unknown reason. Spill."

Frowning, I pushed a loose strand of hair behind one ear. Alaric was a friend and I trusted him. But he was also Damon's friend. I hadn't told anyone the truth of what was going on, either in my head or in reality, between us. It'd been eating away at me for months now and I desperately needed someone to confide in.

Exhaling a puff of air, I just said, "It's complicated."

"Elena. Tell me. Before I jump to some conclusions of my own." His tone brooked no dissent.

Worrying my lower lip between my teeth, I considered what I was about to say. There was no going back once I confessed this stuff to another person. I would be putting myself out there to be judged by someone I respected greatly.

_Here goes nothing._

I didn't begin at the beginning. How could I tell Alaric about that moment when Damon and I had locked eyes across the room? How could I admit out loud that our connection had been formed the very instant we saw each other? I couldn't. So, I started with the offer of golf lessons and went from there.

Without going into a lot of detail, I told Ric about our conversations in Damon's office, how I'd showed him how to set up Facebook, how concerned he'd been after Katherine had accused me of playing favorites. I admitted that the two of us had grown into the habit of confiding in each other more and more personal details about our lives. Alaric knew about James, and I said I'd been the first person Damon had told when he'd found out.

Ric was studying me closely. "You have feelings for him," he observed. It wasn't a question.

Staring down at my fingers twisting in my lap, I nodded.

"Do you think it goes both ways?"

I looked up at him. "Ric, do you really want to know all this?"

"I think you need someone to talk to, Elena. That's what I think. And I'll be that person for you, if you want me to be." His small smile was a kind one, and I knew I could trust him.

"I do." I went on to tell him about Damon's 'I obviously have a thing for younger women' comment, which elicited an eye roll and an amused lopsided grin from Alaric. When I hesitantly mentioned our discussion about meeting up in Richmond for drinks sometime, his amusement fell away again.

"Hmm. You know what you're doing?" he wondered, one brow cocked.

"Not even slightly," I replied, with a nervous laugh. "But it doesn't matter; it's not gonna happen now."

"That might be for the best. What changed?"

I explained our most recent interaction. I told him that plans had just kind of slipped by the wayside. And I confessed how I'd spur-of-the-moment hugged Damon in his office nearly three weeks ago when he'd looked so shattered that day, and how distant things had been between us ever since.

Ric listened carefully and didn't judge. Finally he asked me, "Does he know how you feel about him?"

"No! Well… I don't think so," I quickly responded, my cheeks flaming.

He was quiet for a few moments. Then he said, "You wanna know what I think?"

"Yes," I breathed out anxiously.

"I think you should tell him." Alaric was holding my gaze, his face still solemn.

_What?_ My eyebrows shot up. I definitely wasn't expecting _that_. "I don't know if I can," I admitted, shaking my head.

"Trust me. You need to tell him the truth." He sounded much surer about it than I was.

"How? How would I even begin to do that?" _And oh God I really don't know if I can._

"You know that his birthday is coming up?" Ric asked. He picked up his pen and jotted something on a slip of paper, then handed it to me.

I looked down at the date and grinned. "No. I didn't have any idea. Thanks for letting me know. What do you suggest?"

"I suggest nothing. But now that you're armed with that info, I'm sure you can figure out something all on your own." He tented his fingers together and peered at me over the top.

"Maybe I could take him out for a birthday lunch. That would give us a chance to talk away from here," I mused.

Alaric nodded. "Good plan. You two really need to talk it out. Once things are out in the open, I think you'll find it easier to face them."

My twisting gut at the very idea screamed otherwise.

"Thanks for listening to me this afternoon, Ric. I guess I needed someone to talk to." I flashed him a grateful smile as I got up to leave.

"Elena, I'm always here for you if you want to talk. And nothing you say will ever leave these four walls. Understood?"

"You're the best," I told him. Then I went back to my desk to try to figure out how exactly I was going to corner Damon and convince him he should let me take him out to lunch for his birthday, which as far as he was concerned I didn't even know about.

* * *

**A/N** _Sorry there's no Damon POV in this chapter but you'll get him back at the beginning of Ch 17, I promise! Thank you for all the love you've shown me with this story so far, every review, favorite and recommendation to your fanfic friends means SO much to me! _


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

**Damon**

I'd just gotten into the office from a client meeting on the outskirts of Richmond. It had been a very early morning and the foremost thing on my mind was getting a cup of black coffee into me, then processing the newly signed paperwork in my briefcase.

Rose greeted me as I passed her desk. As I stepped into my office, I thought I overheard her tell someone, "He's here."

Dropping off my jacket and case, I made a beeline for the cafeteria to procure the aforementioned coffee. When I got back to my desk, carefully alternating between blowing on the surface and taking small sips, I found Elena sitting in one of my guest chairs, obviously waiting for me. Was she who Rose had informed I was in?

Elena and I hadn't had one of our casual conversations in my office in several weeks now. Not since the Monday after I'd run into her at the Mystic Grill with Alexis. The last time we'd really talked, I'd admitted to her all Stefan's issues, and I guess she'd taken pity on my emotionally frazzled state or something, because she'd startled the hell out of me by giving me a hug on her way out.

The amount of sheer voltage that'd shot between us when she'd pressed herself against me for those few seconds - it'd felt like my fucking heart was being defibrillated. All my thoughts had flown right out of my head, except one, which involved us being decidedly less clothed. I hadn't even said goodbye to her after she'd pulled away and left me cold and longing for her touch. I think she'd told me to take care of myself. Then she'd walked out and we'd barely spoken to each other since.

It wasn't that I'd been deliberately avoiding her. Not really. I just…had a lot to think about these past few weeks. Stefan had finally done something intelligent for once in his life and checked himself into what they call "partial rehab", which meant he could go to work, but evenings and weekends had to be spent at the facility for the first six weeks. After that the intensity of the program was dialed down a bit if both parties agreed he was making acceptable progress. I made a point to visit him for a least a half hour every evening that I could squeeze it in, and on weekends I brought Alexis with me so we could play a board game or go for a walk with him.

The results of James' battery of tests at the U of V cancer center had come back and a new line of experimental treatment was being set up for him that would start at the end of next week. For the month of November he'd be staying at the facility during the week and coming back to my place on weekends. After that, they would run more tests and reassess how best to continue. I was cautiously optimistic, although James appeared more pragmatic about the whole thing. It seemed to me that he'd accepted his fate a long time ago. If his hope for recovery had improved, he didn't show it. He was neither particularly negative nor positive about his health; he just seemed to enjoy every day as it came and accept what life he had left to live. I admired the hell out of him for his attitude. I was pretty sure if I was in his place I wouldn't be able to be so damn Zen.

And Andie, well, things between us were still uncertain. We were trying to act like everything was normal, talking about what needed to be discussed, going through all the usual verbal and physical motions, but my heart hadn't really been in it. To be honest, I was so wrapped up in James and Stefan issues when not in the office, that I'd mostly been able to suppress my feelings about Andie's potential out of state job and focus solely on the people that demanded my attention most right now: namely, Alexis, my father, my brother and my clients. My wife's issues came in at the bottom of the list. If that made me an asshole, so be it.

And if I'd possibly used all these important and conflicting distractions as excuses to myself for not making time to see Elena lately, well, who could really blame me? It just seemed like maybe me forcing some distance between us right now was exactly what I needed, in order to garner some better perspective on what I really felt. And what I really wanted to do about it.

What I hadn't considered was the effect my stepping back would have on Elena.

When my eyes connected with hers, I stopped in my doorway, surprised. As always, I was more than a little pleased to see her, but I kept my face purposely unexpressive.

"Hey," I greeted her cautiously. Setting the steaming cup down on my desk, I took my seat and swiveled to face her. "What can I do for you today, Elena?"

Her eyes narrowed in a small frown for a second, before she replaced it with her usual smile. God, I had missed that smile so much! Instantly I gave up fighting; I couldn't help but mirror it.

"I know you're busy, but I promise I won't take up too much of your time. I have something I wanted to ask you. Actually, make that tell you, as I'm not taking no for an answer," she stated firmly.

Both my eyebrows flew up at that. Intrigued, I replied, "Oh really? Well, by all means, do tell."

"A little birdie informed me you have a birthday coming up."

_Shit._ That was probably the last thing I'd been expecting her to say. My thirty-fifth birthday was approaching next week. Frankly, I'd kind of been hoping to avoid it. I snorted and shook my head. "Saltzman's gonna pay for that," I muttered under my breath, but I knew she'd heard me.

"And," she continued, as if I hadn't spoken, "I'm going to take you out for lunch to celebrate. It doesn't have to be on the day of, as I know you probably have more important things to do that day, but maybe the same week. Okay?"

"You don't have to do that, Elena," I began to protest, hands lifting slightly with my palms out toward her.

"Yes, I do. I really do. I'm not giving you a choice, Damon. Just tell me a date that works, and I'll plan it. We're going. We've barely talked to each other in weeks, and I miss you. I want to do this."

She missed me? At those words, tight tendrils snaked around my heart and squeezed. _Not half as much as I've been missing you_, I thought ruefully. Sighing softly to myself, I relented. "Fine, fine. Okay. Lunch it is. Can I get back to you?"

"Nope," she smirked. I shook my head again and grinned at her. She sounded a lot like me just there.

"Stubborn much?" I teased.

"Very," she assured me. "Thought you knew that by now?"

"Kinda figured it out, yeah. Yet another thing we have in common." And then we both started to laugh. Elena's laughter filled me with intense happiness. I swear, it was the sweetest sound to my ears, second only to the higher pitched giggles of my daughter. Any tension I might have been feeling flew right out the window and I relaxed completely.

She swiped under her eyes, still smiling so widely her teeth gleamed. "You think?" she managed to get out, before succumbing to snickers again. It wasn't even really all that funny, but neither of us could seem to stop. All I wanted to do in that moment was pull her into my arms and hold her and laugh with her for the rest of my days.

Pressing my lips tightly together to hold back another round, I pulled my Blackberry from my pocket to pull up my calendar for next week.

I knew without looking that I hadn't booked in anything on the day of my birthday. I'd honestly been trying to forget about it. In the past, Andie and I often went out for lunch on our birthdays, but this year I didn't think either of us was searching for any extra alone time with each other. If she did ask, I'd just tell her I had a client meeting I couldn't get out of. But I was fairly confident she wouldn't bring it up.

Pretending to be examining my schedule, I frowned studiously at my phone. Then I looked back up at her. "How does October thirtieth work for you?"

Her face glowed with amusement, and at my words her brows rose. "You don't have plans that day already?" she wondered, clearly surprised by my suggestion.

"Not yet. Speak now, or forever hold your peace," I told her with a smirk. Then I realized I'd made a reference to something heard at a marriage and my amusement fell away. Wedding memories were the last damn thing I wanted to be thinking about these days.

"Great," she replied. "Book it. See you next Wednesday then." She got up to leave.

"Next Wednesday," I agreed. "If not sooner. Oh, and Elena?"

She glanced back at me curiously.

"Missed you, too," I told her softly. Her cheeks grew even pinker and that sweet little smile reappeared before she turned and walked away. God, that smile could melt the hardest heart. Was that what I had been attempting lately? Trying to harden my heart to her, trying to keep her out?

I realized I was fighting a battle already lost. She had broken down those barriers some time ago. Elena Gilbert was already firmly ensconced in there.

* * *

The rehab center Stefan was spending his weekends at these days was located a few miles out into the countryside on the west side of the city. Alexis sat in the backseat singing along to one of the more repetitious songs on the CD Elena had given me as I drove past tall fields of waving cornstalks. Halloween was fast approaching and the local pumpkin patches and corn mazes were doing brisk business on this beautiful Saturday morning. An autumn chill permeated the air. You could feel the first signs that winter was on its way.

When we arrived, we found Stefan sitting on a bench under a maple tree on the sprawling front lawn. Katherine sat beside him, one hand resting affectionately on his knee. When she saw us coming, she quickly withdrew her fingers. I raised a questioning brow her way, but she ignored me.

"Uncle Stefan!" Alexis called as soon as she saw him. She ran over and plopped down on my brother's right.

I grinned as I approached. "Hope we're not interrupting," I greeted them facetiously. They both knew I really didn't give a shit if we were.

Katherine abruptly stood up and brushed any clinging debris from the backs of her thighs. "I think that's my cue to head out." She tousled Alexis' hair and my daughter looked up at her. "Great to see you, Alexis."

Alexis regarded her curiously but didn't reply. She no longer remembered when Katherine and her uncle had been married. Her former 'auntie Katherine" was nearly a stranger to her now.

Katherine reached out and touched Stefan's shoulder gently. "See you tomorrow," she told him softly, before heading in the direction of the parking lot.

"Tomorrow?" I questioned in a low voice, taking her spot on the bench beside him as she walked away. Leaning over to brace my elbows on my knees, I turned to look directly at him. "You two mending fences?"

Stefan glanced at Alexis, who had picked some yellow and orange leaves up from the ground and was making them dance through the air. Then he looked back at me. "Something like that, I guess."

"Does this mean…?" I didn't even want to ask, but I couldn't help myself.

He pressed his lips tightly together before answering. "I may have…overreacted somewhat in the past," he admitted.

I stared at him, eyebrows somewhere up in my hairline. "Overreacted? You don't say. Are you telling me you actually believe us finally?"

"I believe…I believe you both made a mistake a long time ago. And I'm done punishing you for it." He dragged the fingers of one hand through his hair. "She saved my life. You both did. And I'm…grateful. Really."

"I know you are," I said quietly. "You forgive her, then? Giving her another chance?"

He exhaled a small laugh. "I don't what we're doing. Enjoying each other's company for now, I think. But yes, I've forgiven her." He tilted his head and looked at me straight on. "You, too."

I had been about to wonder out loud how the hell anyone could possibly enjoy Katherine's company, but his last couple words shut me right up. I swallowed over a sudden lump in my throat and dragged my eyes from his to examine something off in the distance.

Luckily Alexis picked that moment to need to show us a large red maple leaf she had just discovered behind the bench on which we sat. Instead of going inside to play games, she dragged us on a walk around the large property with her, pointing out to us every rock, twig or leaf she found beautiful along the way.

I felt lighter than I had in years.

* * *

**Elena**

It took me a long time to decide what I wanted to give Damon for his birthday. I'd had less than a week's notice, and, if you couldn't tell already, I was the type of person who preferred to plan everything out well in advance. I scanned through the files of music on my laptop for at least twenty minutes before I decided what to burn him a copy of. In the end, I chose Pete Yorn's debut album, _musicforthemorningafter_, as I thought its basic 'man and guitar' esthetic would appeal to Damon's tastes. It was also one of my absolute favorites and I hoped he would love it as much as I did.

But giving him another ripped CD wasn't good enough. I wanted my gift to be something more personal, something that would mean a lot to him for years to come. I wracked my brain trying to think of a great idea. I scrolled through the personal e-mails from him I'd kept, looking for anything to jump out at me, but his messages tended to be short and to the point. Glancing down at my purse on the floor, I was hit by a sudden inspiration. I retrieved my phone and pulled up the two photos he'd sent me a few weeks ago of James and Alexis. For a moment I stared at the one of all of them together. It was perfect. Their matching blues eyes told a three generational story that I knew Damon would treasure forever. Smiling, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

On the way home from work the next day I stopped off at the mall and had the photo printed out in eight by ten matte finish. Then I asked them to mount and frame it in a modern and simple stainless-steel frame. Once it was padded and wrapped, I hid it in the trunk of my car to wait for next Wednesday.

The following day I did some research online and made a reservation for us at a small bistro on the south side of Lynchburg. It had great reviews and the hostess assured me she could give us a table in the back where we'd be able to talk privately.

Now that everything was in place, I just had to wait for the day of our lunch date to arrive and hope like crazy that Damon wouldn't find some way to back out on me.

And that I wouldn't lose my nerve.

* * *

The morning of Wednesday, October thirtieth, I got into the office a good hour earlier than I usually did. I was pretty sure I hadn't gotten more than a couple hours sleep, total, but I'd taken extra time applying my makeup and had been generous with the dark-circle concealer. I had also carefully selected my outfit, choosing a dark red pencil skit paired with a black, white and red geometric patterned blouse. It had a low scoop neck and ruffled peplum at the waist; I swear it was the girliest thing I owned. I had not been blessed with generous cleavage, but I did know the benefits of a good push-up bra, and I used it to full advantage with this outfit. Finishing it off with my favourite Celtic knot silver necklace, I scrutinized myself in the bathroom mirror. I smiled at my reflection and was pleased with the results. I looked damned good. I just hoped Damon would like what he saw, too.

I deliberately parked in the back parking lot, and entered the building through the rear door so that I would walk through the Marketing Department on my way to my desk. There was only one light on in one office, Carol Lockwood's – the rest of the area was dark and deserted. Good. That was just what I'd been hoping for.

Slipping silently into Damon's office, I left the bag with the CD, framed photo and a simple card signed, _Hope this birthday is one you'll never forget, E_, on his chair where he couldn't miss it. Heart lodged firmly in my throat, I went back to my desk to distract myself from my increasing anxiety with the day's workload.

I'd asked Katherine for permission to take a half-day off, so I wouldn't have to return to the office after lunch with Damon. I figured no matter how our conversation went, I'd be way too keyed up to come back here and work more. A buffer of a few hours to either go home early or drive around and think about things seemed like the smartest plan, and I had some extra time saved up from coming in early so many mornings.

Yesterday I had texted Damon the name of the restaurant and what time to meet there. He'd replied with two whole letters: _OK_. It still felt a bit strange to me to be texting him at all, but I'd given him my cell phone number back when we'd been loosely trying to decide on dates to go out drinking together, and he'd used it for the first time when he'd sent me the photos of James and Alexis. I figured at least this way if he ended up running late or needing to cancel, he'd be able to reach me. Much as I really didn't want him to back out, the reprieve I knew it would bring at delaying the conversation I needed to have with him would be a relief.

It was yet another one of those mornings at work where the minutes seem to creep forward at an agonizing pace. I was jittery and once again had difficulty focusing. I got up and did some filing in the file room for a while. When that was done, I went and sat in Alaric's office. He was fully aware that Damon and I were supposed to have lunch today. In fact, he was literally the only other person that knew.

As soon as Ric noticed how nervous I was, he began to tease me and make me laugh, which helped take my tension down a notch or two. I was surprised when he mentioned the framed photo I'd left in Damon's office. Apparently he'd been over there earlier to drop off a bottle of birthday bourbon and Damon had shown him the picture. Ric told me he thought it was a smart idea on my part. That way Damon couldn't feel guilty about me spending money on him, because my presents were homemade, all but the frame.

When I got back to my cubicle, the little red light was flashing on my phone. I hadn't realized how long I'd been away from my desk. Surprised, I discovered the message was from Damon, thanking me for the gifts and telling me he'd see me soon. I was still anxious about our impending conversation, but hearing his voice and knowing I'd made him smile, knowing that he was looking forward to spending time with me later, made me feel better.

I still had an hour to go until I could leave, and that final hour – well, let's just say I noted every single minute passing. When at last it was nearly over, I got up and went to the ladies room to check my make-up, reapply my lip-gloss and freshen my antiperspirant. Nervous sweat was pretty low on the list of things I wanted to smell like. At that thought, I retrieved a small bottle of my favorite perfume from my purse and rubbed some on the inside of my wrists; now that I was leaving the office, the scent couldn't offended anyone's delicate sensibilities.

Taking one last appraisal of myself in the large mirror above the sinks, I decided I looked nervous. Cute, but nervous. Hopefully Damon wouldn't notice. But how was I ever going to get through saying what I wanted to say to him? There was no way around the fear I was sure to feel, but I didn't want to stammer and come across like some crushing fourteen-year-old girl. A glass of wine could help, so I decided to save discussing any sensitive topics until after I had some Cabernet Sauvignon inside me.

On my way back to my cubicle to power down for the day, I stopped in Ric's doorway to let him know I was heading out. His head tilted to one side and he scanned me up and down.

"You look great," he told me with a grin.

"Thank you. Wish me luck?"

"You don't need luck. Just tell him the truth. You'll be surprised how much easier things'll be between you, once you're not locking secrets away any more."

I sighed. "I hope so."

"You'll knock him dead, Elena," Alaric told me.

I laughed. "We'll see. Have a good afternoon. And if you need me…"

Ric's brows lifted.

"Don't call," I finished, grinning.

I shut off my computer, grabbed my jacket and headed straight to my car. I had no idea how many minutes it took to drive to the restaurant, but I'd allowed myself twenty.

With Lynchburg traffic, it actually ended up taking closer to thirty. When I arrived at the address the website had given for _The Original Bistro_, my mouth fell open in shock. It was on the main floor of the South Lynchburg Sheraton. A low knot snarled tight in my gut. I'd booked us reservations at a restaurant in a hotel. Where I was intending to confess to Damon that I had more than just friendly feelings for him. Crap. What kind of a message was _that_ going to send? That I planned to have him for dessert? This was _so_ not the impression I wanted to make.

But there was little I could do about it now. I spotted his unmistakable blue Camaro parked down along one side and I nudged my little car into an empty space nearby. As I got out and began to walk toward the front entrance of the hotel, my stomach seemed to drop lower and lower as my nerves rose higher.

When I stepped into the lobby, I saw a small sign pointing the way to the bistro. Following it took me down a long hallway, and at the end I turned right and went along another. Then I took a left and wound down around the indoor swimming pool. The scent of chlorine filled my nostrils and I saw a couple of kids splashing around behind the metal gate. I went through a set of double doors, down another hallway and then took a right. If you're confused just by reading this, imagine how perplexed I must have felt navigating it. The Sheraton couldn't have put their restaurant in front by the parking lot like every other hotel? I was starting to wonder if this place would be like finding the Minotaur at the center of the labyrinth. Smiling to myself, I imagined Damon as Theseus, slaying the dreaded horned beast to protect me.

At the end of this last corridor, I finally arrived at the entrance to _The Original Bistro_. When I stepped inside the door, my eyes locked with Damon's as he approached me. He'd obviously been waiting.

"You made it," he smiled and he pulled me into a hug right there in the restaurant's foyer. I was instantly at a loss for words. His hands slipped around to the small of my back as naturally as if we touched each other every day. "I was afraid you might get lost trying to find it, like I nearly did," he said into my ear. Then he stepped back and looked directly at me again.

He was wearing a light blue button-up that really made the colour of his eyes pop. They just seemed to have an inner glow right now. I couldn't look away even if I wanted to.

"Happy Birthday," I managed to mumble.

"Thanks," he replied. "I listened to the Pete Yorn CD on the way over. It's great!"

"I thought you might like it."

"I do. And the photo…I love it, Elena. I already know exactly where it's going to hang." His eyes sparkled with happiness.

"Where?" I asked.

"Right on the wall in my office, so I can see it every day. It will help to remind me what I put up with all the shit at work for. And it'll make me think of the thoughtful woman who gave it to me."

A hug and a genuine thank you from a cheerful Damon – what more could I ask for? Yet, I was still so damn freaked out. My palms were cold and damp with fear.

"Shall we find a table?" I asked him shyly.

He turned to the hostess and told her we were ready to sit down. She led the way to the back of the nearly empty restaurant. Turned out I hadn't needed to worry about privacy after all. We sat adjacent to each other at a square table, which put him much closer to me than I had imagined the many times I'd played out this scene in my mind. After we had glasses of water poured for us, instead of looking at Damon, I picked up the menu and tried to study it. I wasn't feeling hungry in the slightest, but I knew I should probably try to eat something. It was difficult to think about unimportant things like food right now.

We made small talk until the waiter took our orders and brought us each a glass of red wine. I took a sip, and as I swallowed I realized the time had come for me to start talking.

_Here goes everything_.

* * *

_**A/N** Please don't be too annoyed with me. I know, I know - another cliffhanger, which you all hate. But it made sense to split the two chapters there. So sorry, guys! I am definitely getting them headed in the right direction, but it's a journey. I really like ch 18 and hope you'll think it's worth the wait. Pretty please review? Thank you!  
__Follow me on twitter, tumblr or LiveJournel - all under elvishgrrl_


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

**Elena**

I took a deep breath, then reached over and put my fingers on top of Damon's wrist, giving it a squeeze. I knew they were ice cold.

"You're freezing," he observed with a small frown.

"I know. It's cause I'm really nervous," I replied shakily, pulling my hand back into my lap to clutch its partner.

"What've you got to be nervous about? Do I make you nervous?" And then he smiled that smile, that one that always sent all those crazy butterflies fluttering around inside me.

"Yes." I couldn't be more honest than that. "I need to tell you something and it's not…not an easy thing to spit out."

His eyebrows flew up. "I'm not sure I like the sounds of that," he told me, looking concerned.

"It's nothing bad," I assured him quickly, realizing how much crappy news the poor guy had received over the past few months. "Honest."

"Then what is it? Don't keep me in suspense." One side of his mouth curved up into his signature half-smile as he looked at me expectantly.

My fingers absentmindedly found their way up to the pendant of my necklace and began to rub and twist it. With my other hand, I picked up my wine glass and took a big gulp. It was getting increasingly hard to maintain eye contact with him for any length of time.

"You're freaked out," he observed in a low voice. "And you're making me freaked out just watching you. Elena, please tell me what's going on."

All other sounds in the restaurant were being drowned out by the cacophony of my heart throbbing in my ears. I tore my eyes from his again and pressed my lips tightly together. How to even start?

Swallowing thickly, I forced myself to begin. "You know how we were talking last month about meeting up in Richmond? Going out for drinks together some night? And you were gonna get a hotel room so you wouldn't have to drive after?"

I looked back up at him and saw his brows draw together in confusion. "Yeah?" he replied cautiously.

I couldn't tell if he had any clue where I was headed with this, so I floundered on. "If we had done that…gone out together like that…I might have…" I stopped and reached for my wine, taking another deep drink of the tart goodness. My fingers were damp with sweat against the glass.

"You might have what?" He wasn't smiling anymore; his face was very serious. He was staring at me like he was trying to look right through my eyes and into my mind.

I had to look away. His expression was just too much. Sighing, I forced the words out all in a rush. "Imighthavekissedyou," I whispered, focusing on my hands once again clutching each other tightly in my lap.

Damon was silent. I didn't glance up to see his reaction; I couldn't bear to. The silence stretched out until it felt taut as a rubber band. Once the tension got to be too much and it snapped back into place, I knew it would be me who would feel the sting.

The waiter picked that moment to bring over our salads and give us a temporary reprieve. Relieved at the distraction, I took another gulp of wine and picked up my fork to dig in. It was something to focus on that wasn't Damon or what I'd just admitted to. I still couldn't look at him.

As I chewed my food, I noticed that he hadn't yet touched his own. And I knew he was still staring at me. I swear I could feel him willing me to look up at him, and I fought off the urge to give in.

Before I could take a second bite, he reached over and put his hand on my forearm to stop my fork from stabbing more leaves. "Elena…"

I dared to dart a glance his way, quick as a blink, before I focused back on the bright green spinach salad in front of me. Was that worry I just saw in his eyes? Pity? Understanding? I didn't know and was way too terrified to find out.

"I feel it, too," he told me quietly, squeezing, then releasing my arm.

My eyes shot back to his and this time I forced myself to not tear them away. "You do?" I breathed, shocked.

"Yes. This connection we have between us? I'm not gonna tell you I don't feel it, because I do."

I just stared at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He didn't make me wait long.

"The old me, back in the day, would have jumped at the chance to be with a woman like you, Elena. Hell, the current me wants to more than you know. But…I'm married. You're married. And I don't think I could live with myself if we did." His voice sounded off a little, like he was trying to force it to normalize and not quite succeeding.

"I know," I said softly, breaking eye contact again. "I feel guilty enough already just saying it out loud. But I had to tell you. I couldn't stand keeping it locked inside any longer."

"I'm sorry," he said, and though I could tell he meant it, it still made nausea rise up to hear the words. "I mean, I could play the 'What If' game all afternoon, but it wouldn't change anything. I just…can't."

I looked back up at him and smiled ruefully. "Go ahead. Ask me whatever you want to. I'll answer honestly."

He considered me for a long moment. "What if…I had said, 'Let's go get a room right now'?"

Chewing my lip for a moment, I thought about my answer. "Honestly? I would've considered it. But that's not why I asked you here today, not at all. I just wanted to talk."

"Really?" Damon smiled that sexy smirk of his and my heart rate instantly accelerated. I wondered if he was picturing what us getting a room here might entail. I know I was.

Pressing my mouth into a tight line, I kept quiet and waited for his next question.

"Okay. What if I'd said, 'Let's leave our spouses and run off together'?"

I sighed and looked down at my nearly untouched salad again. Matt's face flashed into my mind, as did the thought of breaking his heart. A lump rose in my throat. "I don't want anyone to get hurt, Damon. I don't want to destroy your family, or mine. I just…can't deny how I feel about you any longer." I inhaled deeply in frustration. "God, I sound like a horrible person right now. You must think I'm the worst wife in the world."

Closing my eyes, my chin dropped to my chest. I was suddenly overcome by the need to escape this stifling room and the man staring at me. Where was the nearest washroom again? There had been so many damn hallways!

"Elena, look at me. Please," he begged.

Raising my head, I forced my eyelids open and looked straight into Damon's clear blue eyes. Why did that particular shade of blue have to pierce my soul so much?

"I don't think you're a horrible person. I don't. Really. I've thought about you so much over the past four months that I've lost count. Believe me, I'm not judging you."

I frowned and started to rip my gaze away again, but before I could, he grabbed my wrist once more, insisting on my attention.

"I was single until I was twenty-nine. Where were you then?" he whispered, eyes locked on mine, and there was so much raw feeling in that single sentence that my heart hurt.

Tears swam to my eyes. I closed them and inhaled deeply, trying to force these overpowering emotions back into their cage where they so clearly belonged.

I'd thought getting all this off my chest would makes things easier than keeping it bottled up inside. I'd thought that, if for some crazy reason I discovered that he felt the same way, it would lighten this weight that dragged me down, and make me happy.

But I was wrong on both counts. Learning that he felt the same way I did, but refused to act on it because his guilt would be unbearable, after I'd just admitted that I might give in to it, made me feel smaller than I'd felt in my entire life. Knowing that we both felt this massive connection to the other, but our complicated circumstances would probably always keep us apart, was far more painful than anything I'd ever felt before.

I wanted to run away. I wanted to dig a hole in the floor and bury myself in it. I wanted to vanish into thin air and erase any memory of this conversation from his mind.

Instead, I said, "So, what now?"

"We're friends. That doesn't need to change. I don't want it to change," he told me.

I laughed, a short derisive snort. "I just admitted I wanted…more, and you shot me down. Which you were entirely right to do. Everything's already changed."

"Don't," he said firmly.

Glancing back up at him, I asked, "Don't what?"

"Don't do that. Don't close down on me like that. I want…I want the same thing you want. But we can't. You know we can't. Don't punish me for it. Don't stop being friends with me because of this, Elena." There was no doubting the crack in his voice I heard that time.

His fingers were still on my wrist. I needed him to pull them away. I needed him to never let me go. I needed so many things from him that I could never have.

I shook my head doubtfully. "How can ever I face you in the office after telling you this stuff?" I softly asked him.

Damon narrowed his eyes at that, and seemed to make a decision. Standing up, he tightened his grip on me and tugged me to my feet. "C'mon. Let's go talk somewhere more private." He threw some money on the table and I followed him out of the restaurant. He didn't drop my arm.

Glancing into some of the public rooms as we walked past, he eventually pulled me into a Games room. It had a pool table, an air hockey table and some retro video games around the walls. More importantly, it was deserted.

He turned and stared at me with heat smoldering in his eyes. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn he was about to kiss me.

Letting go of my wrist at last, his hand dropped back to his side. Sighing, he said, "Elena, I know this sucks. Believe me, I know. This whole goddamn situation sucks. But I need you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me in that office."

"What about Ric?" I asked, only half joking.

He smiled, but there wasn't much humor behind it. "Okay, yes, you and Ric. But Ric and I don't share this kind of intense connection I feel with you." His smile fell away and he dragged one hand over his face and through his hair. Now it had that just-fell-out-of-bed look and I had a crazy urge to smooth a few of the wilder pieces back down for him. I pinned my hands against my sides.

"Damon…" I started.

"No, I know. I know. We're both feeling pretty overwhelmed right now. Just promise me…promise me you won't make any rash decisions that'll affect everything. Let's just take a bit of time to think things over."

"Okay," I agreed softly. "I can do that."

Suddenly he pulled me to him and wrapped his arms tightly around me. My hands made their way seemingly of their own accord up over his shoulders and came to rest on the nape of his neck, the ends of his hair tickling the backs of my wrists. As he bent his head and pressed his face against the side of my own neck, my fingers begged to thread through his thick hair and drag his mouth up to mine, but I resisted. Having his lips where they were was torture enough.

"I don't want to lose you from my life. I can't," he mumbled, his breath like a furnace against my already overheated skin. And then he kissed my throat. At least I think he did; it all happened so fast and my mind was frantically buzzing with everything we'd both already said and done. Maybe he didn't plant a quick kiss to my neck. Maybe it was all in my head. But I swear it wasn't.

Damon pulled away and looked down at me, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly hooded.

"You won't," I assured him. "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere."

Famous last words, huh?

* * *

**Damon**

When I got home after work, I gave my daughter a big hug and kiss before pouring myself two generous fingers of bourbon from the bottle Ric had given me. I felt like my nerves had been put through the fucking wringer, yet my day was far from finished. James was at my place already, though I didn't have to take him up to Charlottesville to start his treatments until the weekend. He wanted to spend my birthday with me and I knew he thought it would be his one and only chance to do so. Miriam had stayed behind in Buffalo to work this time, but she'd be down to visit her father in another week or so.

The four of us went out for dinner to celebrate the occasion, because it was expected of me, not because I particularly wanted to. I slipped into the father/son/husband role I had lately grown so accustomed to playing, but what I really wanted more than anything on the evening of my thirty-fifth birthday was some time alone to drink myself into a stupor and obsess over my afternoon with Elena. I doubted any 'me time' would be in the cards tonight, not from the moment I stepped out of my car and into my front door.

After dinner and a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday" that had my family dissolved into giggles, we went back to the house and I tucked Alexis into bed. James went in to say goodnight to her and I made my way to the master bedroom where I found Andie changing out of her dress clothes.

She straightened up and came over to me, slipping her arms up around my neck. I couldn't help it; my entire body stiffened at her touch. She didn't seem to notice. Leaning into me, she whispered seductively, "Don't be late gabbing with your dad tonight. I have a little birthday something-something for you when you come to bed."

I swallowed and stepped back from her. Giving her a half-smile, I left without replying and went into my office. I shut the door behind me and walked over to the window, gripping the wooden sill tightly in my fingers as I stared out into the night. What the _fuck_ was wrong with me?

Though the frequency had decreased due to our ongoing disagreements, it's not like I'd stopped having sex with my wife. We still did, although lately it had become a mostly wordless encounter, done in the dark, and seemingly empty of the affection we used to share. She knew I was still unhappy about her career choices, but she also knew that I had a high sex drive, and that she was a desirable woman. It never had taken her much to get me going. Passion's a funny thing that way; it isn't always about desire, anger or stress or frustration channels it, too.

But today, after such a revealing and emotional discussion with Elena earlier, Andie's invitation for a birthday romp didn't appeal to me in the slightest. Not even a little. I wanted only to go downstairs and spend an hour or two shooting the shit with James, then find some place quiet where I could contemplate everything that'd happened. I knew something had to have changed dramatically if I had zero interest in having sex with my hot wife. Again, I mentally chastised myself. No doubt, something was _seriously_ fucking wrong with me.

No, scratch that. I knew _exactly_ what was wrong with me, and she was a cute brunette about five foot six. Who I couldn't have.

Sighing, I shook my perplexing issues off and headed down to find James. He was sitting in the living room watching hockey on our big screen television. I poured us each a drink before joining him on the couch.

"How you feeling?" I asked, as I handed him his glass.

He glanced over at me, shrugging. "Same old," he replied noncommittally.

"Headache again?"

"Yeah." He took a swig of bourbon and focused back on the television.

We sat in silence for a while, sipping our drinks and watching the game, although I wasn't really taking in much of what I saw.

"You don't have to sit down here with me tonight, you know. Go spend some quality time with your wife on your birthday," he told me abruptly.

At first I didn't reply. Then I just muttered, "I'm good."

James set his glass down on the table and turned to face me. "Look, I realize we still don't know each other all that well. And I know I haven't been a father to you for very long and probably have no right to stick my nose in. But I'm not blind, Damon. I know when two people aren't connecting. I lived through it with my ex, and needless to say, it didn't end well. I get that guys don't really talk about private stuff with each other, but I just want you to know I'll listen without judgment if you ever feel like sharing."

I stared at him, my insides swirling the bourbon in my stomach until I nearly felt queasy. He flashed me a tight-lipped smile and turned his focus back to the television, obviously giving me the option of pretending his little speech never happened.

For a while I tried to do just that. I resumed watching the game with him until the Sabres finally pulled their heads from their asses and scored a last minute tie-breaker to win.

"On that happy note," James announced, standing up and stretching, "I'm heading to bed. Hope you've had a good birthday, Damon."

"Wait," I stopped him. He lifted a quizzical eyebrow at me, before dropping back to couch.

"You're right," I admitted. "Things between Andie and me are…strained…these days."

"I'm listening."

Sighing quietly, I began to tell him about my relationship with her: how we met, the unexpected pregnancy, our wedding, Alexis' arrival and my wife's increasing focus on her career. I finished by explaining the offer to cover a maternity leave in New York City, and how Andie had already unofficially accepted the contract before even talking to me about it.

James pressed his lips together for a moment. "I see. And now you're just waiting for her to tell you she got the official offer and when she's leaving, right?"

"Yep," I replied. "It's only a matter of time."

"Maybe she'll surprise you?" he asked.

"Not likely. This kind of opportunity at a big network is what she's been waiting for since before I met her. I'm sure she feels torn and I know she loves us, but in the end, her career is gonna win. I know it will." My jaw clenched as I stared down between my knees at my clasped fingers. From what I could tell, it was basically a done deal already.

"Okay. Suppose you're right. Then what? Will you support her? Or will you hold it against her?"

I glanced back up at him. "It's not a matter of me not supporting her. Sometimes I feel like all I ever do is support her. It's that she's hardly around for Alexis as it is, and accepting this job in New York will only take her further away and increase that separation. She claims she'll be home every weekend, and she probably will be, for a while. Until it becomes every other weekend, because of some big meeting or event she has to cover. Something will come up that's more important than us, I guarantee it."

Swiping one hand over my face in frustration, I added, "Is it so wrong for me to want her to prioritize her daughter over her career?"

James regarded me silently for a few seconds, brows drawn in tight. "I can't help but notice you keep talking about this with regard to Alexis. Which is important, no doubt about it – but what about how it affects you?" Those eyes so much like my own seemed to see right through me.

I didn't reply right away. I simply didn't know how to answer that. Finally I told him, "This is not about me or my needs not being met. I'm not _that_ selfish. My frustration is with how her actions affect our daughter. She's so young still, James. She needs her mother around."

"I know, Damon. I get that. But you are more than just a father; you're one half of a couple. And you're feeling like you're pulling far more than your share of the weight, not just in raising Alexis, but in your entire relationship. And I can clearly see that you're backing off now, distancing yourself from her so Andie going to New York will hurt less if it happens." His voice softened. "Am I wrong?"

I heaved another frustrated sigh. "No, you're not wrong. But there's so much more going on right now than just that stuff. This situation with Andie is only the goddamn icing on the cake. And I have no control over any of it. Andie. Stefan." I paused, then added quietly, "You." _And Elena_. Underlying all of it was how I felt about Elena and the complex combination of guilt and pleasure those feelings brought.

"Me," he said. "Yes, then there's me."

"You are not a problem, James. I'm glad to have you here, I really am," I assured him.

"I'm glad to be here, too. It just pains me to see you under so much stress. If you were to ask me – which I realize you haven't - it seems to me that re-connecting with Andie would be the easiest of those issues to remedy. Why don't you go upstairs and talk to her about things?"

I smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "Hmm. Thanks for listening. I appreciate knowing your thoughts; I do. I guess it's probably time we both went to bed."

"Good plan. And I'm always available to listen. 'Night, Damon."

"Good night."

James made his way to the guest room and I went slowly up the stairs. From the hallway I saw that the lamp was still on in our bedroom. I stared at that glowing yellow strip under the door and debated whether or not I really wanted to go inside. Mentally bracing myself, I put a palm to the hard oak and pushed lightly on the door. It swung open a few inches until I could see the edge of our king-size bed. Andie was under the covers with her back to me. From the even sound of her breathing, it seemed she was asleep.

Relief coursed through me. I wondered what kind of a man that made me, that I felt so relieved I didn't have to talk to my wife tonight - or make love to her. Probably not a very good one.

I gently pulled the door closed again and went down the hall to my office. Instead of sitting down at my desk, I flopped into the easy chair in the corner, tilted it backward and raised the footrest. Pressing my head into the soft leather, I began think through in detail my very interesting thirty-fifth birthday.

I went over every word, every stare, every last touch of my hour and a half with Elena. I remembered the feel of the curves of her body pressed up against mine. I recalled how hot the skin of her neck was below my lips. It felt right. It felt natural.

And she'd confessed to me that she had feelings for me. That she wanted to kiss me. That she wanted _more_. And though we'd both agreed we could never go there, I knew I wanted those things, too.

I wanted more.

And I couldn't have more. _We_ couldn't have more.

And it was the worst feeling in the world, because deep inside me lived a voice that was screaming at me that what I felt for her wasn't wrong at all. It was right.

Really, really right.

* * *

**A/N** _Wow, I'm just blown away by the love you guys showed me for the previous chapter! I sure hope this one lives up to your high expectations. As you can tell, the angst is starting to increase. I can't say thank you enough for all your reviews, favourites and recommendations to your fanfic readin' friends! Please let me know what your thoughts are about this one.  
_

_Follow me on tumblr or twitter: elvishgrrl._


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

* * *

**Elena**

The day after Halloween started like any other weekday. I got up. I went to work. I prayed that I wouldn't run into Damon. Well okay, that part was different, but every other aspect of that Friday in the office was essentially the same as usual. Forgettable, you'd assume.

I drove home and made dinner. As we ate, we had mundane conversation about Matt's students' latest projects and the new guy his sister was dating. I did a bit of complaining about Katherine's latest annoying project and we both speculated on when Ric would propose to Jenna.

After, we sat down in the rec room to watch a movie together, me stretched out on the couch and Matt in the easy chair. Everything seemed normal. Everything felt like it always did. I had no idea I'd remember this particular Friday for the rest of my life.

I didn't know my world was about to be turned completely upside down.

The phone rang.

Matt reached over to answer it. I vaguely recall hearing him say, "Hello?" but I was trying to focus on the movie and hoped the interruption would be a quick one.

I remember noting his sharp intake of breath. As I curiously glanced over at him, he exclaimed, "Shit, no!" His eyes were wide and he was staring at me in obvious dismay.

A sharp bolt of dread stabbed me straight in the chest as I looked back at him. I knew something awful had just happened.

"Matt?" I asked him, a quaver in the word.

He was listening to the voice on the other end of the line. I heard him say, "Let me put her on." There was a pause, then he told them, "We'll be right there." He slowly, dazedly replaced the phone into its cradle, and as he turned to me again, I saw that his eyes were glistening.

"What? Matt! What is it?" My tone was piercing and terrified and filled with alarm.

"''Lena, sit down," he told me softly.

"I am sitting!" I yelled. Then I realized that somewhere along the way I had stood up, so I plopped back down. He came over and sat beside me, reaching over to envelop both my hands in his large warm ones.

"I don't know how to tell you this…" he began. The tears he'd been fighting finally escaped and began to flow down his cheeks. The only other time I'd ever seen Matt cry had been on our wedding day, and those had been happy ones. The sight of his tears right now had my own eyes welling up in response. Whatever the news was, I understood it was really, really bad.

"Your dad…" he whispered, and I immediately understood. My hand flew to my mouth in an attempt to stifle my wail, but it was no use; it erupted from me loud and long, like the cry of a banshee in the night.

_Daddy!_

"Nonononononononononononono…."

Everything after that was a blur. I know Matt pulled me into his arms. I think I remember him telling me that my father had collapsed after dinner and my mom had found him unresponsive on the living room floor. The paramedics had arrived quickly, but they'd been too late to save him this time.

I was distraught and irrational. I scraped my nails through my hair. I screamed, "Why didn't she want to talk to me? Why did she just hang up without talking to me?" He had no answers.

We drove to my mother's house in silence, and by the time we got there I was nearly catatonic. The tears that had started at the sight of Matt's own ones just would not stop. They streamed down my face continuously. For hours, I think. I barely spoke a word to my mother, or to Matt, or to the neighbors who were standing in the living room I'd grown up in, consoling my mom with inane platitudes. I just stood there, staring at the floor where my father had taken his last breath.

I suddenly found I could barely take enough of my own. My lungs were so tight; they had no room for silly things like oxygen. I ran upstairs to my former bedroom, gasping softly. Pushing the window wide open, I fell onto my window seat and let the cool November air rush over my sweat dampened skin. I drew it into myself in huge, desperate huffs, but no matter how much I inhaled, it never seemed to be enough. There was a strange keening sound in the distance and I tried to focus on that. It took me several minutes to realize that noise was coming from me.

The door to my room softly opened and I heard Matt pad across the carpet toward me. The bedsprings creaked as he lowered his weight onto the end of it.

I ignored him.

Eventually he said, "Let's go home, 'Lena. There's nothing more we can do here tonight."

Shaking my head wildly back and forth, I told him, "No, no, I'm staying. You go." I had no idea whose voice that was, but it sure as heck didn't sound anything like mine.

I expected him to protest, to come over and try to hug and comfort me, like I knew he wanted to. But Matt thankfully understood that I didn't want sympathy or support from him right now. He just quietly replied, "If that's what you want." Reaching over to rub the top of my knee, he told me he was sorry and that he loved me. And then he left me alone.

For a while I remained motionless on the window seat. I remembered sitting here as a child with my dad, snuggled up against him as he read to me. I could still hear him stumbling over the tongue twisters in _Fox In Socks_ and both of us giggling hysterically. There were so many times we'd talked and played and laughed here in this room.

Then I went over to my old bed, pulled back the quilt and curled up underneath. My tears dampened the pillow beneath my cheek. They refused to let up. I thought sleep wouldn't come for me at all that night, but I was wrong. I fell deeply asleep in no time at all. I wish I could say it was dreamless, but it wasn't.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, at first I had no idea where I was. Cheerful sunlight streamed through my bedroom window and across the foot of my bed. With a gasp it came flooding back – what happened last night and why I was here - and it felt like I'd gotten sideswiped with the news all over again.

I pushed back the blankets, and got up, shivering, as I realized I'd left the window open all night to the cold. I closed the sash and drew the curtains tight against the sun. It had no right to shine today. My sorrow begged for rain, dark and gloomy showers to prove that God wept right along with me.

There was a bag just inside my door with pajamas, toiletries and other stuff that I assumed Matt had dropped off last night after I'd fallen asleep. Grateful for his thoughtfulness, instead of returning to the warm bed as I'd planned, I stripped off yesterday's clothes and went into the adjacent bathroom for a hot shower.

Saturday passed in a blur of funeral arrangements and listening to friends and strangers attempt to console my mother and me. When it was only the two of us, we barely spoke to each other. I kept myself occupied by cooking her meals and cleaning the house. Scrubbing out the bathrooms, vacuuming the rugs, dusting the knick-knacks that cluttered the living room – it all made the hours when we weren't making funeral decisions or dealing with sad and well-meaning visitors pass more quickly.

Matt showed up just before lunch with take-out from the Grill for us, but I was already cutting sandwiches and telling Mom she had to eat them. He seemed surprised to see me up and functional, and at my mother's insistence, he sat down to eat with us.

He assured me he'd already called Alaric for me and asked him to let Katherine and my co-workers know what had happened, and that I'd be out of the office all of next week. Ric had insisted Matt call him back once the service information was known. I told him we knew the dates and times already from my conversation with Josiah Fell this morning. The visitations were to be tomorrow and the funeral would be held on Monday.

After lunch Matt drove us over to Fell and Sons Funeral Home. _One of Damon's client's_, I thought idly as I stepped out of the car. I wondered if he'd hear about this from Ric and if he might show up at the service. Even through all my fog and grief, there was a tiny part of me deep inside that still perked up at the idea.

I knew this was going to be was the really not fun bit. We needed to make detailed arrangements, sign documents, craft an obituary for the _Herald_, choose flowers and a casket. I blanched at the thought.

As it turned out, my mother made all the decisions. I didn't have to say much. But when it came time to go downstairs and select a coffin for my father, something in me balked. I got as far as the second last step on the stairway leading to the basement. Then I saw the rows of caskets. Wooden ones in every shade, different colored ones, stainless steel ones, even tiny child's pink and blue ones in the back. Suddenly all I could see was my dad lying inside one of them, eyes closed, white quilted satin pillow under his head, forever. Being lowered into the cold hard ground in one of those tight, narrow…boxes. Locked shut and buried six feet under. Where I'd never ever see his face again.

I clapped a hand to my mouth to hold in my gasp. Telling Matt I needed some air, I rushed back up the stairs, down the hallway and out the back door. Finding a secluded corner of the old building to lean against, I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my head against the cold brick. I sucked in deep breath after deep breath, but I just couldn't seem to get enough. My heart jack-hammered. My chest felt tight to the point of pain. I let myself fall to a sitting position against the wall. Was this what a panic attack felt like?

The invisible bands squeezing my ribcage began to slowly ease up a minute or two later. As the sweat dried on my wind-chilled skin, I got to my feet, squared my shoulders and carefully made my way back inside.

Later that night after supper, when it was again just my mom and I again in the house, I finished putting the clean dishes away in the cupboards and went to sit with her in the living room. She was watching one of those angsty serial dramas on television.

I lowered myself onto the couch beside her and silently watched it with her for a while. The overly melodramatic words and stupid decisions of the people on the screen made zero sense to me, but I admit I wasn't really following the plot all that closely.

Finally I turned to my mother and asked, "So what are you going to do now?"

She seemed surprised. "Watch the rest of this show, finish my wine and go to bed," she replied matter-of-factlly.

"You know what I mean. Will you stay here?" I wondered if she'd sell the house, and I got a pang of sadness at the very thought. But I presumed it would be too much for her, both mentally and physically, to continue living here all alone.

She glanced over at me. "Yes, I think so. For now, anyway."

I nodded. Okay, an issue for another day then. "Do you need anything else tonight?"

"No, thanks. I appreciate all your help today, Elena. I know this has been tough on you." She patted my arm.

Tears started to well up again. They were never very far away any more. "I miss him so much, Mom," I whispered.

"Me, too," she admitted.

Then I did something I hadn't done in very a long time. I hugged my mother tight and told her that I loved her.

* * *

**Damon**

"What?" I exclaimed softly, heart plummeting. "You're shitting me!" It was shortly after nine on Monday morning and Alaric was sitting in my office. He'd just told me the news that Elena's father had passed away on Friday night.

"I wouldn't kid about something like this, Damon. The funeral is this afternoon, one o'clock at Fell and Sons in Mystic Falls. Come with me?" He didn't look like a man who was willing to take no for an answer.

Swallowing thickly, I replied, "Right…I should go. I have a client meeting over lunch, but I'll…um…I'll meet you there."

After he left, I blew out a long exhalation. Poor Elena. My heart went out to her. I knew how close she'd been with her dad and I knew she'd be absolutely devastated. Right now she needed the support of her friends, and I thought I probably still fit into that category. No matter what we'd said to each other last week or how awkward things might or might not be between us since, I knew I should be there for her. It was the right thing to do.

The problem was, I hadn't stepped foot into a funeral parlor since my mother's service when I was seven. Even driving past them made me shudder with instant anxiety. Yes, I had one as a client, but Josiah Fell and I always met in a café when we did business. The very thought of going into one of those places, smelling all the flowers, seeing the dead person all painted up and displayed in a wooden box for everyone to look at, hearing the mourners whisper and sob over the loss of their loved one – all of it made my panic buttons flare.

But I had to do this. I had to show my support for Elena.

I dove into work, focusing all my attention on dealing with client questions and concerns, booking appointments and replying to e-mails. This only worked for so long. Before I knew it, it was time for me to drive to Mystic Falls to meet Ric at the funeral home.

As my Camaro closed the distance to my destination - at a far slower speed that I usually drove it, I might add – I tried to deliberately not think about where I was headed. Singing along to the radio, fidgeting between stations, tapping my fingers restlessly against the steering wheel, I did anything and everything to distract myself. The urge to pull right the fuck over and make a giant u-turn was constantly right there tugging at me, but I battled against it. I really wanted to be there for her when she needed me.

My tires crunched in the gravel as I pulled into the crowded parking lot of Fell and Sons. The lot was nearly full, as the service was about to start. I saw the backs of a few people in their black suits and dresses as they disappeared inside the front doors.

I eased the nose of my car into the last spot in the far back. At first I couldn't even bring myself to get out. My heart rate was accelerating. I took a few deep breaths and forced myself to swing open the heavy door. First my left foot lowered onto the ground, then, slowly, my right. Sighing, I stood up and closed the door. I could do this. I could.

I walked carefully over the uneven gravel along the side of the building. The strained notes of organ music from inside oozed out into the cool November air. My chest was tightening again, but I made myself keep moving forward. Each step was more difficult than the last, like walking through water. Or possibly Thanksgiving gravy.

As I reached the corner of the front of the building, I caught a whiff of nauseatingly sweet flowers. And I pictured a coffin. A gleaming oak one, with large brass handles, the upper third propped open and a woman's face clearly visible within. She had thick black hair and deathly pale skin. And red lipstick; always the red lipstick. She'd reminded me of Snow White, awaiting her Prince Charming to come kiss her and wake her up. But real life wasn't anything like fairy tales. Even at my young age, I knew she wasn't going to wake up. She was gone and she wasn't ever coming back to me. And I needed her so bad.

A low gasp flew from my mouth and I clutched the brick wall beside me for support. I wasn't a child anymore. I was a grown man. I could do this.

To my credit, I made it almost to the front door. Maybe, if someone else had been outside and seen me, I would have been able to force myself to go inside. For appearance's sake, if nothing else.

But I was alone. Just as my foot hit the concrete step to walk up to the porch and go through the front doors, I thought of James. And I realized this would be a prequel to what I'd have to go through myself in a few months. I imagined his face in that coffin instead of my mom's. And those desperate tendrils that had been squeezing my chest snarled even tighter. My heart raced. I couldn't seem to get any air. There was a rushing noise in my ears. Clutching desperately at the iron railing, I managed to steady myself. I was sure I was about to pass out.

And I'm not proud to admit it, but I fucking chickened out. As soon as I was able to get myself moving, I ran. You wouldn't think in that state I'd be able to run. You'd think, as I did, that I'd collapse into a fetal position on the pavement. But I didn't. I ran straight back to my car, jammed my key into the ignition and sprayed loose gravel all over the parking lot in my haste to get away from there.

I never saw Ric. I never saw Elena. And I felt like shit about being so goddamn cowardly, I really did. I hated that I let them down. But I just had to get the fuck away from this place as fast as was humanly possible. I didn't care where I went; it just needed to be far from there. Some place where I'd be able to breathe again.

* * *

**Elena**

The days following my father's funeral seemed endless.

I stayed with my mother for a few more nights, until she insisted she was fine and that I go home and "take care of my neglected husband and get back to work." Her words. I rolled my eyes but did as she asked. Staying there kept me surrounded by memories of my father, at the same time both comforting and excruciating. Mom was right; it was best I go home.

Matt had taken the Monday off work for the funeral, but he really couldn't take much more time away from his students, so I found myself alone during the daytime. On Thursday there just weren't enough distractions to keep my mind occupied. Grasping a sudden wave of inspiration, I bundled up in a jacket and scarf and drove out to the falls to go for a hike.

Dried leaves and twigs crunched under my shoes as I walked the narrow trail. This was a place I used to hike with my dad when I was young and I was drawn to come out here on this beautiful sunny autumn day. I moved quickly along the path, working up a sweat so the cool air felt heavenly on my overheated skin. Though there was no one with me, it didn't seem like I was really alone. I felt closer to him than ever.

The day of my father's funeral was all just a hazy memory to me now, a hazy horrible memory. Of the countless people that came up to me to offer condolences, most of the faces blurred together now. I shook so many hands, accepted so many hugs. Very few of them even really registered. I'd felt like an automaton, saying 'thank you' to them all, telling them that my father would have appreciated it. I knew it was a giant lie. What he'd have appreciated would be to still be alive, that's what he would have appreciated!

I stopped under an ancient oak tree for a minute to take some deep, calming breaths. My eyes remained dry, amazingly. I wondered how long that would last.

Caroline, Tyler and Bonnie had come to the funeral. And Alaric, who'd told me how strong he thought I was. There had been no sign of Damon, and I'd been surreptitiously watching for him the entire time. Not going to lie – I'd really hoped he might make an appearance. I'd been looking for his face, for his presence to mentally anchor myself to, and he'd been a no-show. It was disappointing, but not really surprising.

We'd promised each other we wouldn't let our talk the previous week make things awkward between us. (Oh God, was that only a week ago? It felt like so much longer now.) But the truth was that it had, for me. Only two days in the office had passed since we'd had lunch, but I'd studiously avoided going anywhere near the Marketing department both days. I hadn't even left my desk at lunch, telling Bonnie I'd needed to work through it. I just hadn't been able to bear the idea of facing Damon after confessing to him what I'd confessed.

Yet at my father's funeral, it was Damon's face I'd sought out, and he hadn't come. I don't even know why I'd hoped so much that he might, but I had. And it hurt to discover he didn't think enough of me to show up.

I started walking again. Before long I was standing in the clearing near the base of Mystic Falls. A cold mist filled the air, dampening my clothing and skin. The roar of the water pounding against the rocks encompassed me. I swore I could feel the very earth trembling beneath my feet. If I was ever going to feel close to God, close to the spirit of my father, it was in this place.

* * *

On Friday morning I got up, got dressed and drove to Lynchburg. It had now been a full week, or would be this evening and I just couldn't stand to stay home alone and dwell on stuff any longer. Work would provide me a much-needed distraction, and when I got back home Matt would be there, so I wouldn't have to spend so much time by myself. Which meant less thinking about things I wanted to push down for a while. Just what the doctor ordered.

My co-workers were surprised to see me in the office a day earlier than anticipated, and I politely accepted their condolences before throwing myself back into my workload. I wasn't in any mood for idle chitchat, and they seemed to understand. As expected, there was a backlog waiting for me, and I embraced it wholeheartedly, if somberly.

I still felt like I was drifting in a thick emotional fog, but concentrating on my calculations enabled me to cut through it and simply focus on the hard black and white of the numbers. And it worked, nearly for the entire day.

When my phone rang toward the end of the afternoon, I was studying rows of numbers searching for an error. I answered it distractedly, not even glancing at the display screen.

"Accounting Department. Elena Gilbert speaking."

"Elena?" Damon sounded hesitant. "Surprised to hear you came in today."

I suppressed a sigh. Even now, even after everything I was dealing with and everything we'd said to each other last week, just hearing his voice sent a wave of pleasure flooding through me. It was simultaneously annoying and wonderful.

"I…I needed to get out of my house," I replied.

"I'm so sorry," he told me softly.

_Yeah. But not sorry enough to find time in your busy schedule to reach out to me earlier_, I thought, rather childishly. What I said was, "Thanks."

"Can you come over before you leave? Please?"

A big part of me wanted to say no. The thought of seeing him face to face right now, after all that had happened between us, was intimidating. So much had changed in just a week's time. But the pleading tone in his voice made me falter. Closing my eyes for a moment, I sighed, "I'll try. If I have time." Then I hung up. I knew it came out sounding a bit bitchy, but my emotions were in a stranglehold when it came to this man. And my father had just died. I had every right to be bitchy.

At quarter after four I powered down my computer, said my goodnights to my few lingering coworkers, and made my way to Damon's office with extreme trepidation. When I knocked on the edge of his door, he looked up and smiled, as he always did. Maybe it was just me, but his smile seemed a bit nervous this time.

He came to the door and glanced over my shoulder. Rose had already left for the day and I wasn't sure who he was looking for. No one was in sight but me. Ushering me inside, he shut the door behind us. After everything, I was tempted to reach right back over and open it again. But I didn't.

In hindsight, perhaps I should have.

"I was heartbroken for you when I heard the news, Elena," he began. "I wanted to be there for you, and I'm so sorry I didn't make it to the service.

I lifted a hand, palm forward, in a 'stop' gesture. "It's okay," I replied carefully. "I was a little busy. It's not like we would have had any time to talk to each other anyway."

"No," he told me, more forcefully. "It's not okay. I should've been there. I tried. I got as far as the parking lot. And then I just…I kinda freaked out. My mom…and now, with James…" he trailed off.

Oh. _Oh_! I hadn't even thought of that. The flashbacks to his mother probably caused his own panic attack. It seemed we were even more alike than I'd thought. "Right, of course. I get it, Damon. It's fine. It doesn't matter that you didn't come inside."

"It does to me." And then he got up and tugged me up out of my chair and into his arms. "I'm so, so sorry, Elena. I know how much your dad meant to you. I know what it's like to lose a parent. And I wanted to be there for you so badly, but when it came right down to it, I panicked. I failed you. And I feel awful about it. I didn't want you to think I didn't care, cause I do."

He held me tight to him and pressed his face into my hair, inhaling deeply. I could smell his aftershave, and it was fresh and inviting, like an ocean breeze. His hands lingered on the small of my back as I pulled away slightly to look him in the eyes. All my pain channeled into something else as I stared into them. Something that took control of me. "I know you do," I whispered.

And then I kissed him.

* * *

**A/N** _*ducks* Sorry! Yes, I know I left you guys with another cliffhanger. And I hope you will still review even though this chapter was a really sad one. Maybe the ending cheered you up a wee bit? Hope so! Thanks so much again for all your love. You guys just make my day, every day. Pretty please let me know your thoughts? *mwah*_


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

**Elena**

I kissed Damon.

In a desperate moment of looking for something real and solid to anchor my out of control emotions to, I kissed Damon.

And he kissed me back.

At first.

As I pressed my lips against his, he stiffened for a second. Only a second. Then he pulled me tightly against his chest, his fingers sweeping up my back and into my hair. Angling his face, he opened his mouth to me, kissing me fully and deeply. He tasted a bit like coffee, but I didn't mind. I clung to him like he was the only lifeline in my darkness.

My hands found their way to the sides of his neck and then up to cup his jaw and I got lost in him as our lips danced. My temperature skyrocketed. My nerves shot up flares. My heart was trying to win the Kentucky Derby. I couldn't help myself; I moaned into his mouth.

And then he pulled away and turned his back to me, clasping a hand over his face.

"No," I heard him mumble. "We can't. Not like this." He looked at me again and his eyes said it all.

I crumpled inside.

Reading my reaction immediately, he grasped me by the upper arms, holding me in place, preventing me from fleeing.

"Don't. Don't freak out. This? Us?" He gestured between us. "You're not thinking straight right now."

"Yes, I am. I know exactly what I want." I reached up and laid my palm against his cheek. "I want you, Damon," I whispered.

He stepped away from me once more, shaking his head in denial. "Your father just died, Elena. When something as mindfucking as that happens, people don't make smart choices."

"This is the right choice. I know it is. And I know you feel it, too," I told him defiantly. My mind was numbing over again, turning to ice.

A plethora of conflicting reactions played across his face in rapid succession. Then he sighed. "What I feel is not the point. Your emotions are all screwed up. They're not reliable. You shouldn't make any major life decisions when you're reeling from a loss. You'll only end up regretting it later."

As I stared at him, his words began to sink in. I thought about how much faith my dad always had in me to make the right choices and I was ashamed. I frowned and took a step backward. Swallowing guiltily, I mumbled, "You're probably right."

"I know I am. Trust me."

"I'm so sorry, Damon," I told him, reaching for the doorknob. "Not just for…this, but for everything I said last week, too."

"I won't accept any apologies. You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured me emphatically, but I knew differently. "I'm glad we're close enough to be honest with each other, to trust each other. You mean a lot to me, Elena."

"My friendship, you mean?" I knew my cheeks were flaming.

He frowned slightly, but replied, "Yes."

I pulled open his office door and shouldered my purse. "Goodnight, Damon."

"Goodnight."

I didn't look back as I walked away.

* * *

**Damon**

_Well, shit._

I sat in my office for a long while after Elena left, just staring at the portrait of James, Alexis and myself on the wall and thinking over what had just happened.

She'd kissed me.

Fuck.

Elena Gilbert had _kissed_ me. And I'd kissed her back. Sure, I'd come to my senses and forced myself to put a stop to it, but _still_. I'd kissed her back.

And it had been _amazing_.

So now what was I supposed to do? Forget all about it? Not even remotely possible. I'd never forget _that_ kiss for the rest of my life, however long or short it might end up being.

There aren't even adequate words to describe what kissing Elena had felt like. It felt like I wanted to do it again, that's what. And again. And again. I wanted to kiss her for so long and so deeply that hours would fall away and we wouldn't even notice. I wanted to kiss her until we passed out from exhaustion wrapped up snug in each other arms. I wanted to kiss her and kiss her and kiss her some more, while doing other things to her, things that would elicit noises from her like that soft little moan she'd made against my lips. Except louder.

God dammit! I needed to punch something in the worst way right now!

I was so very, very fucked.

* * *

Instead of going straight home, I called the sitter and told her I'd be an hour late. Luckily she didn't mind. I really needed to go to the gym and work off some intense frustration.

Once I retrieved Alexis, we grabbed some take out and went straight up to Charlottesville to pick up James after his first week of treatments. He looked a bit tired, but none too worse for wear.

By the time the three of us got back to the house, it was well into the evening. Alexis was yawning, but begging Grandpa James to read her a story before bed. Since I knew how much he missed her when he was away, I gave her a quick kiss and let him tuck her in.

Andie was working late again. When she finally got home, I was reading and yawning, nearly ready to pass out. I already had a good idea who I'd be dreaming about that night.

She came into our room, sat down on the edge of the bed and turned my way. "I'm going to New York next weekend," she informed me.

"Interview?" I asked dryly, arching a brow.

"Yeah. How'd you guess?"

"Doesn't take much to connect the dots." I put my book aside and rolled onto my back, staring up at the blank white ceiling.

She sighed and began to change into her pajamas. After she slipped under the covers, she rolled over to face me. "So, are you gonna be able to forgive me if I take this position? That is, if I even get offered it."

"Isn't this interview just a formality?"

"Probably. But I won't know for sure until I sign the contract. Answer the question, Damon."

"Will I forgive you?" I barked out a short, derisive laugh. "This has never been about me, Andie. It's about Alexis. And your unfailing ability to make career choices that keep you away from her." My eyes were still fixed straight ahead.

"I wish you could try to see things from my point of view." She sounded frustrated. _Welcome to the club_, I thought.

"Oh, I do. I just don't happen to _agree_ with your point of view." My voice was steely. Earlier, I'd felt guilty as hell for kissing Elena back, but right now I didn't regret it one fucking bit.

She sighed deeply. "That's what I thought." Then she rolled over to turn off the lamp.

I lay on my back staring up into the dark for a very, very long time before sleep finally drowned me in its blissful oblivion. The dirty dreams of forbidden kisses and illicit rendezvous I'd been anticipating were nowhere to be found.

* * *

Andie's weekend in New York came and went. She brought Alexis back a pink and black 'I Heart NY' t-shirt and claimed she'd had a fabulous time. I didn't ask any questions. No contracts seemed to have been offered or signed. Yet.

Thanksgiving came and went. We entertained the entire family at our house for dinner: Giuseppe, Stefan, Katherine, even James and Miriam joined us. I'd told Giuseppe about meeting James the weekend prior and he'd taken the news stoically, as I'd thought he might. When he'd gruffly told me he was glad for me, I didn't blow him off. I'd actually gotten the distinct impression he'd really meant it. Wonders would never cease.

James had just completed his four weeks of treatment and he and Miriam were heading back to Buffalo on Sunday morning. He was supposed to return to the Cancer Center in a week's time to go through another bout of tests and then decide what the next step was from there.

Stefan had one more week to go at the rehab centre and then he'd be a free man again, although therapy sessions twice a week would continue for a few more months. And, shocking to exactly no one at this point, he and Katherine were seeing each other again. I wanted to be against it, but honestly I really couldn't. He seemed happy. I was happy for him.

And as for things between Elena and me, well…we weren't exactly avoiding each other, but - not gonna lie – it'd been weird. I wished like hell that we could somehow snap our fingers and go back to the comfort level we'd had with each other before, but the fact was, in reality it just wasn't that easy. Neither of us went out of our way to spend time with the other anymore, not since the kiss. It saddened me, and I missed her, but I knew she needed time. Time to grieve, time to think, time to work through everything. Christmas would be here before she knew it, and the holidays were undoubtedly gonna suck ass this year. I'd decided I'd give her space until the new year, then after we were back to work again in January I'd make a point to instigate a chat. Some separation until then might help us both clear our heads.

It really fucking sucked, but I thought it was for the best. I filled the massive hole left in my life with the usual things: clients, my daughter, my father and my brother. Sometimes even my wife. But no matter what other distractions I had, they never completely worked. Even on the nights when I fell into bed too tired to think, dreams of Elena would come. I could never let go of her at night, even when I managed to succeed for small periods of time during my waking hours.

* * *

It was a chilly December day. I'd had to scrape a thin layer of frost off the Camaro's windshield that morning, and I'd heard snow was in the forecast by the weekend. I was sitting in Alaric's office spinning a pen in my fingers as we talked. I'd just finished telling him all about James' upcoming round of experimental treatment that would start in January to further shrink his tumor. Deciding to lighten the mood a bit, I switched to the topic of the approaching vacation.

"Are you taking Jenna anywhere special for the holidays? Getting out of Mystic Falls for a break?" I asked him.

"Yep," Ric replied with a smile. "The day after Christmas we're heading to the Bahamas for a week in the sun. I cannot wait. Sunshine on my skin, bottomless drinks in my hand and all the food I can eat. Sounds like heaven."

"It does," I agreed. "First vacation together – that's a big test of a relationship."

"Well, we already spent a weekend away together in October. That worked out so well I thought we'd try a whole week this time." His face grew serious. "She's the one, Damon. I'm gonna propose on Christmas morning. Already got the ring."

My eyebrows flew up. "Seriously? Wow, dude. Major step there. Sure you're ready for 'til death do us part?'"

He grinned from ear to ear. "Yep. I'm sure. I'd even promise to obey if she asked me to."

"You'll be doing that either way," I smirked.

"Probably. So what are the holiday plans for the Salvatore household this year?" he asked.

"I'll be cooking for a house full of family most of the first week, and working from home while trying to keep my daughter entertained the second. If work's as slow as I suspect it'll be, I might take her down to my cousin's place in Florida for a few days over New Year's."

"Just you and Alexis? Or Andie, too?"

I laughed ruefully. "God only knows. She'll probably have to work, so I assume it'll just be the kiddo and me."

"Things still unresolved between you two?" he wondered.

I flipped the pen into the air and caught it. "At the moment her future career path is still not carved in stone. But she'll know any day now, I suspect. Surprised it's taken this long."

"And then what?" Alaric arched a brow my way.

I frowned. "Then my wife moves out for three months, that's what."

"You sure, man? You sure she won't turn them down?"

"It's her dream job, Ric. Why would she choose to stay in Nowheresburg with us when she could chase the bright lights and fame that the New York network can dangle in front of her? So she can remain a co-anchor of Action News in Mystic Falls? Not fucking likely," I replied sarcastically.

"She might surprise you, Damon. And even if not, you guys will still see her on weekends, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "We'll see."

Ric's brows drew together as he looked closely at me. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something else, offer me some sort of platitude or advice I assumed, but then he shut it again.

"Okay," he replied simply. "I hope things work out for you, buddy, I really do."

I did, too. The big question was what exactly 'working out for me' really meant now.

* * *

I got my answer to one of those questions that very evening.

I was in the kitchen tossing a salad to go along with the chicken roasting in the oven. Alexis was on the couch in the living room watching _SpongeBob Squarepants _and Andie wasn't due home for at least another half hour, maybe longer. So, I was taken by surprise when I heard the front door open and her breeze in.

"Lex!" she called. "Wanna go to Alessandro's for dinner? I'm taking us out!" I heard Alexis run to the entranceway squealing, "Yes!" at the top of her little lungs.

My gut clenched at Andie's words. I knew instantly why she wanted to go out, and I resented the hell out of the fact that she was choosing to tell us her big news together in a public place, instead of giving me the head's up privately first, where I'd be able to react honesty.

With a frown, I turned off the oven and remove the half-cooked chicken. I was in the process of wrapping it up to put in the refrigerator, when Alexis bounded into the kitchen shouting, "Daddy! Mommy's taking us to 'Sandro's for pizza!"

"I heard," I told her, with a forced grin.

Andie appeared in the doorway, smiling widely. "I want to take us all out for dinner to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Alexis asked her.

"I'll tell you guys when we get there, sweetie. Go get your shoes on."

As Alexis ran to the front closet to grab her shoes, I glared at Andie. I opened my mouth to say something sarcastic, but before I could she'd turned on her heels to go help our daughter with her winter jacket.

Sighing, I put the meat in the fridge and joined them, determined to play the role of supportive, if taciturn, husband for the public part of our evening.

Alessandro's was a local favorite. Well known for their traditional Italian pizza and loud, family-friendly environment, the place was packed. We waited for nearly thirty minutes before we were finally ushered through the noisy dining area to our table.

After the waiter took our order, Andie turned to Alexis. "Mommy has some amazing news, honey!" she told her. I tensed all over. Alexis looked up at her mother expectantly.

"Remember when I went to New York City for the weekend last month?" Andie asked, digging in her bag and pulling out her iPad as she spoke.

Alexis nodded.

Andie turned it on and began to type. She angled the screen toward our daughter. "Remember this photo? This was the view from the balcony of my hotel room last month. That's Central Park." She scrolled through some more shots. "And this is the Central Park Zoo. Would you like to go there?"

"Can we?" Her eyes shone excitedly.

"Definitely! And to a very huge and famous toy store called FAO Schwartz. And to see the Statue of Liberty, too." She pulled up photos of each to show Alexis.

"Wow! Oh, Mommy, when can we go? This weekend?"

I was getting more annoyed by the minute as I listened to my wife tempt our daughter with all the amazing things New York had to delight her with if she visited Andie there. These exciting ideas were being planted specifically to distract her from the fact that her mother would no longer be around during the week.

"Not this weekend, sweetie. But Mommy is going to be living there for a few months soon, and when you visit, we can go do lots of fun things like this!" She glanced up and met my eyes briefly before returning her gaze to our child.

"We're moving to New York? When?" Alexis looked so thrilled and it broke my heart.

"After New Year's." She put her hands over Alexis' small ones. "You and Daddy are gonna stay here, and I'll be going there during the week. But don't worry, we'll see each other every weekend and we can do lots of fun things when you come visit me in the city. And it's not for forever. After three months I'll be right back here with you guys again." Her eyes flashed back to mine for a second. I wasn't sure if I heard a hint of a question in her tone at the end of that sentence.

Alexis frowned. I could almost see the wheels turning inside her little head as she processed what her mother had just told her. It was very tempting to toss my two cents out, but I knew it wouldn't be fair to affect my daughter's reaction to Andie's news. So I pressed my lips tightly together and waited to see what she would say.

Finally a small smile broke over her face. "We can come visit you? And we can go to that toy store? And the zoo?"

Andie's grin widened in relief. "Of course!" she replied. She began to explain to Alexis how they would still be able to see each other every day using Skype to video chat, and how she could even read her bedtime stories over it. As expected, Alexis thought the idea of using Daddy's iPad to talk face to face with Mommy from bed every night was the coolest thing ever.

I sighed quietly to myself. Andie was smart; there was no doubt about that. She'd known exactly what to say and do to win our daughter over to the idea of her leaving. She'd planned all this out and it was working like a charm. But she wasn't going to be the one to have to comfort our not-even-four-year-old when she woke up from a nightmare at two in the morning and wanted her Mommy. She wasn't going to be the one to have to explain why mom couldn't make it home to visit this weekend because a news story broke that she needed to cover. Reading Alexis bedtime stories over Skype a few nights a week – because I knew damn well it wouldn't happen every night; hell, Andie barely found time for one story a week as it was – just wasn't going to cut it over the long haul.

The waiter, dressed like a gondolier in a black and white horizontal striped t-shirt and straw brimmed hat, arrived just then with our pizza. Andie tucked the iPad away and flashed me a smile as she began to dish up a slice for Alexis. I didn't smile back.

The whole drive home, the two of them chatted excitedly about all the fun things they could do in the Big Apple when we came to visit. At one point Alexis exclaimed, "We can ride the subway! Won't that be fun, Daddy?" and I had to agree with her that yes, it would be pretty cool. But mostly I kept all my thoughts to myself.

After we got back to the house, Andie made a special point of getting Alexis ready for bed and reading to her. When I went in to kiss her, she was already nearly out.

"Goodnight, pumpkin," I whispered, tucking the blankets up around her.

Her eyelids fluttered. "Are you sad, Daddy?" she asked me sleepily.

I was momentarily taken aback. "No, baby girl, I'm fine," I assured her.

"Love you," she murmured, letting her eyes drift closed again.

"Love you, too." I kissed her on the forehead and tiptoed out of the room.

Now what was I supposed to do? Go into our bedroom and get into yet another argument with Andie? Head to my office instead to work or kill time on Facebook or watch television until so late she would be sure to be asleep before I came to bed? Neither felt right.

Instead I went downstairs, pulled my boots and coat back on and grabbed my keys. Slipping out the front door as quietly as I could, I hit the pavement. I walked around our neighborhood, and beyond, for hours. The night air was cold and refreshing. I could see the white mist of every breath I exhaled and I crammed my hands deeply into the pockets of my leather jacket. About a half hour away from home, I realized I'd left my cell phone behind on my desk. But who the fuck would I call anyway? The only possible option was Alaric, but what was I gonna do? Bother him at home at this time of night to spew about my shitty evening? Not likely. Guys just didn't do stuff like that.

And to be completely truthful, the voice I really wanted to hear more than any other, the only one who could possibly sooth my frazzled nerves and lighten my mood, unfortunately wasn't even an option.

* * *

**Elena**

So…yeah. I screwed up when I kissed Damon. I didn't want to regret it, because it was amazing – possibly the most amazing kiss I'd ever had in my life. And he'd pulled me close and kissed me back and I knew damn well he had feelings for me, too. I wasn't sure the extent of those feelings, whether they were more along the lines of mere physical attraction or if they went deeper, but I knew they existed. I didn't want to regret it, but…as you might guess, things had been weird between us ever since.

We weren't as distant with each other as before I'd taken him out for lunch and told him the truth about my feelings. It wasn't like that. But we weren't friends the way we used to be, either. This time, a lot of it was my doing. The few times he'd called to request I come over and discuss a case, I'd asked him what he needed over the phone instead of dropping everything and heading straight to his office. He hadn't sat down with the group of us over lunch in nearly two months. The e-mails we'd exchanged were completely work related, often with a polite 'how are you?' or 'hope life is good' tucked in there somewhere, but nothing more.

It didn't bother me quite as much as you'd think it would, though. I'd been really struggling to deal with my father's death. Just when I thought I might be starting to get better, when I'd had a few days of near normalcy, it would hit me all over again and I'd be down for the count crying my eyes out in the washroom.

It sucked. There was no other word for it. I missed him so badly and it sucked hard. I wasn't sure if I could ever truly feel happy again. Matt had suggested I go talk to a grief counselor about it, and while I had resisted the idea before, lately I was starting to think maybe he was right. Still, I hadn't picked up the phone to make an appointment yet.

Christmas was nearly here, next week, in fact. Normally I'd be all full of holiday cheer and humming carols everywhere I went. This year I hadn't even put up our tree. Stockings were not hung by the chimney with care. Garlands didn't decorate the banister of the staircase. Mistletoe didn't dangle from the doorway to the kitchen. I'd told Matt I didn't want any presents. The only gifts I'd purchased were a sweater for my mom and a bracelet for Dana. That was it.

I felt like Scrooge, but I couldn't seem to find it in me to care. Mostly, I just felt numb. If I'd had my way, I'd ignore Christmas completely and go hide somewhere alone to drink a toast or three to my dad.

But I'd recently found out Dana and Matt had been conspiring behind my back. A few days ago, they'd announced what I couldn't deny seemed like an awesome diversion. The four of us, Ben included, were going to head off to Cancun on December twenty-seventh for a week of all-inclusive decadence. While I wasn't jumping up and down with delight, I was pleased by the plan. Getting out of Mystic Falls over the holidays, and away from all the reminders of Christmases past, was exactly what I wanted.

So Ric was heading to the Bahamas, I was off to Mexico and Damon was more than likely going to end up in Florida. All three of us would be spending New Year's Eve far away from home this year. And far away from each other.

When I got to my cubicle on the twenty-fourth, my last day in the office before vacation, I found a Starbucks gift card and a chocolate bar on my desk with a tiny silver Christmas bow stuck on top. There was no card, but I knew exactly who they were from. A small ball of warmth started in my chest and slowly expanded over me, as it always did when I knew he'd been thinking about me.

We may have been giving each other some necessary space lately, but Damon was still the brightest object in my orbit. And no matter what else I was dealing with, I didn't see that fact changing anytime soon.

* * *

**A/N **_ thank you to sauriemilia for pre-reading this. And hey, no cliffhanger this time! To all of you who leave me reviews and favourites, I cannot say thank you enough times. You truly make me want to keep on writing. More angst to come next weekend! :) Please let me know your thoughts?_


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

* * *

"_A Mirror shattered__ is but many mirrors freed."_

* * *

**Elena**

The resort was beautiful. The days were sunny and hot. Both the ocean and pool were refreshing, and the ever-flowing fruity drinks kept my mind obliviously fogged most of the time. The food was delicious and the people around me were cheerful. I, however, much I tried to pretend otherwise, was not.

I was listless. I was distracted. Most of the time I was at least halfway drunk.

And no matter what I did to distract myself or how much I drank, I could not stop thinking about Damon.

I'd be perched on a stool at the bar with Matt, Dana and Ben, sipping a strawberry daiquiri and tuned completely out of their conversation, because I was imagining I was sitting beside Damon instead. I'd be soaking up some sun on the beach with my eyes closed, pretending to sleep but actually fantasizing that Damon was running across the hot sand after a dip in the ocean to drop into the lounge chair beside me, laughing and shaking his hair to deliberately splash water onto my overheated skin.

I'd make excuses to go up to our hotel room to change or to grab something I'd forgotten, and I'd stretch out on the bed for a bit and imagine I was there with Damon. That it was our room and he was lying beside me. That we were spending the late afternoon making love and hiding from the rest of the world as the sun slowly extinguished itself in the sea.

My mind was lost in thoughts of Damon nearly the entire trip. It was a far better choice than thinking about home, and how once I returned I had to figure out how exactly I was going to live the rest of my life without my dad.

New Year's Eve was spent at the on-site disco. The club was filled with mostly teens and twenty-somethings. Hot, sweaty, scantily clad bodies closed in on us, gyrating to heavy beats. I chucked back a shot of ice-cold tequila and swayed to the music, the thumping bass reverberating in time with my heartbeat. Dana and I clutched each other drunkenly on the dance floor as we twisted and writhed, our skirts flaring out around us as we spun.

I was completely smashed. The passing of time felt either painstakingly slow-mo or instantaneous. Midnight caught me by surprise. A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind as the DJ lowered the volume and began the countdown. My eyelids slipped shut, I pressed my back into what I assumed was my husband's solid chest and I pretended I was swaying with Damon. When the New Year arrived alongside deafening cheers, Matt twisted me around and kissed me. My hands slipped up to the back of his neck and I pulled him against me, but I didn't open my eyes.

In hindsight, I'm not sure if it was good luck or bad, but at that moment a wave of nausea hit me and I had to pull away and make a beeline for the washroom. After _that_ unpleasant experience, which left me barely conscious and sobbing incoherently in a pile on the filthy tiles, Dana gathered me up and hauled me outside. Matt dutifully carried me back to our room and tucked me into bed before returning to celebrate with the others. I couldn't tell you what time he eventually got in.

For being in an exotic location with some of my favorite people, it ended up being one of the worst New Year's Eves I'd ever had. Later on I realized it was because I wasn't with either of the two people I most in the world wanted to spend it with.

* * *

A couple of afternoons later, as we lay on our beach chairs soaking up the sun and reading while the boys played pool volleyball, Dana turned to me. "You okay, 'Lena? You've seemed awfully out of it this week."

I looked up from my magazine. "Not really," I mumbled truthfully. It's not like I didn't have a really good excuse to not be acting like my usual self.

"You wanna talk about it?"

I considered it. I really did. My mind was just nicely buzzing from the margarita I'd been sipping and I came really close to simply blurting out that I felt like I was on holiday with the wrong man. Instead I bit my lip and held back the words. Dana would only get worried. And I really didn't want her to worry about me any more than she already was.

Rolling over and sitting up, I dug into my beach bag for my sunscreen. As I squeezed out a big white dollop and began to reapply it to my stomach, I replied, "I know you're concerned about me. And I appreciate it. I just…I just miss him so much." My heart ached as the words came out. A wave of guilt washed over me as I realized, though Dana assumed I meant my father, and I did miss him more than words could possibly express, it was Damon's face that came to mind when I said that.

"I know you do, hon." She reached over and rubbed my shoulder. "Matt's worried about you, too. Have you given any more thought to seeing the counselor he told you about?"

Frowning, I lay back down and closed my eyes below the shade of my sunglasses. Just how much talking about me did Matt and Dana do when I wasn't around? And I did really even care? I pulled my drink toward my lips and took a long pull from the straw. Deciding I didn't give a crap about all that much right now, I told her, "I don't know if I feel like talking to a stranger about this stuff, Dana. Maybe. I'll have to think about it more when we get back."

The sun blazed hot on my skin. Reading no longer interested me. I felt sticky from sweat and greasy from the sunscreen. Instead of jumping into the nearby swimming pool to cool off, I decided it was about time for me to head back to the room to shower and steal a few moments for myself. I finished the rest of my margarita and began to pack up my things.

"Can you tell Matt I've gone to back to our room to lie down? I'll see you guys later for dinner."

Dana gave me a nod and small smile before diving back into her book. She knew better than to push when I clearly wasn't ready to be pushed, and I loved her for it. I trekked along the winding path to the building our rooms were in.

By the time I stepped out of the shower, the after-affects of the tequila had sunk in nicely. For some unfathomable reason I decided it'd be a good idea to freshen up my make-up now before I went to lie down, so that when it was time to get up to meet the others I'd only have to throw on a dress and sandals and go.

I picked up my compact and brush and began to apply a pretty cherry blush to my sun-kissed cheeks. As I stepped nearer to the large mirror behind the sink to get a closer look at what I was doing, my heel landed in a wet spot on the ceramic tile. It slid suddenly forward, and as I lost my balance, my hands dropped to the countertop to circumvent my fall. The compact wasn't so lucky; it escaped my grip and crashed to the hard floor.

Cursing in annoyance, I knelt down to check out the damage. My pressed powder, blush and eye colors were all broken into a multi-hued mess on the tiles. I gathered up my still-rolling eyeliner and mascara and stowed them safely on the counter. Then I cautiously picked up the overturned compact and flipped it upright.

Though no sharp pieces had fallen out, the small mirror was smashed. A spider web of cracked sections all reflected my face back to me from ever-so-slightly different angles. Puzzle pieces that almost fit, but not quite. I stared at myself in all those shards, the brown eyes watching me huge and shocked and utterly alien.

With a gasp I realized that's what my soul must look like. The Elena who I'd always imagined myself to be my entire life was now just like this mirror. Shattered. Unfixable. All the King's horses and all the King's men could never put me back together again. Not like I was before. That Elena, the good girl who always did the right thing – she'd disappeared. I'd held onto her so tightly and for so long, but she'd still slipped away from me. Maybe she'd never even existed at all. Maybe she'd always just been an illusion that I'd clung to in order to define myself.

I didn't know and it really didn't matter any longer. That girl was dead and gone, just like my dad, and, just like my dad, she was never coming back. That girl who'd fallen in love with Matt and promised to love him and only him forever until death do us part – she was dead and gone as well.

I wasn't in love with Matt anymore. I cared about him deeply, but my feelings were akin to those you feel for a best friend or a brother. Not like a lover.

The compact slipped out of my fingers and tumbled to the floor again. I sat stock-still on the cool ceramic just staring into space. My mouth hung open in dismay as I realized something that had probably been true for a long time now.

I was in love with Damon.

* * *

**Damon**

Originally I was only going to take Alexis to Florida for three days, leaving on December thirtieth. But after Miriam and James packed her car full of overstuffed bags and cartons of food and headed back to Buffalo on the twenty-seventh, I changed my mind. I really wanted to get the hell out of my life for a while, and since I was off for another week, it felt like as good a time as any to make my escape. I decided instead of flying, we'd just leave the next day and drive down to my cousin's place. My daughter's booster seat looked out of place as hell in the back of my Camaro, but I just shrugged. It was only for a few days.

Andie wasn't exactly thrilled about us leaving a couple days early. To be honest, she wasn't real happy I was taking Alexis away at all. I snarkily informed her that Alexis needed to get used to being apart from her mother for longer stretches of time. That garnered me a dirty look, but it shut her up. I gave no fucks if she resented me for it. This time I was going to do something just for my daughter and me, to make us happy. Some time and space away right now was something I badly fucking needed.

The drive was a long one for a not-quite-four-year-old. I left before the crack of dawn so she could sleep in the backseat a few hours, and made sure to make plenty of stops along the way. Once we finally got to Naples, we had a great time with my cousins, Zack, his wife Meredith, and their twin five-year-olds, Marky and Mikey. Alexis had a blast playing with the boys, splashing in the pool and running circles around their backyard with their great dane, Loki. I spent most of my time goofing around with the kids or relaxing by the pool with a beer in hand, soaking up some sunshine. The second evening I pulled out my guitar and strummed it by the campfire out back as they toasted marshmallows, the little ones' happy singing piercing the night.

Because I was far more relaxed down there than I would have been back home with my wife, I pushed back us returning to Lynchburg until the second of January. I greeted the New Year sitting in their hot tub clutching a glass of wine and reflectively staring up through the steam at the stars. I was content. Almost. The only thing missing was the right woman at my side.

The moment we returned home, the tension in the air around me immediately re-solidified. Even Alexis seemed to feel it. She was cranky and miserable the entire weekend. On Sunday she wouldn't go near her mother, clinging to my side or off playing alone in her room. I assumed she was upset that Andie was leaving her, much as I was.

A half hour before we needed head out so Andie would make her flight to New York, I went into Alexis' room.

"We have to take Mommy to the airport soon, honey," I told her.

She was on the floor playing with her dolls. From the sounds I had overheard from the hallway, the dolls were not getting along today.

"Don't want to," she mumbled.

I sat down on the edge of her bed. "Lex?" She looked up at me. "Come sit up here." I patted the comforter next to me.

At first she ignored me and continued to play. After a second request, she reluctantly came to sit beside me, eyes downcast like she thought she was about to get in trouble.

"I'm not mad at you," I assured her quietly. "But I think maybe you're mad at Mommy right now. Are you?"

She glanced up at me, eyes all big and serious, and nodded.

Draping my arm around her small shoulders, I tried to think of how best to fix this. "She's gonna be really sad if you don't come and say goodbye. She'll be all alone and missing you all week and she needs all the love and hugs you can give her to keep her going while she's away."

Alexis frowned. "I don't want her to go."

The sad note in her voice made my heart clench and I had to grit my teeth a little to hold back my rising anger. It always seemed to be just below the surface these days when it came to my wife and her choices. I sighed softly. "Me, neither. But it's what Mommy wants. And we have to be happy for her, because she's happy. I know it's hard, but could you try? She really needs you to try."

She looked at me again and I could tell she was thinking about what I'd said. Finally she smiled a little and nodded. "Okay."

Taking her tiny hand in mine, I led her downstairs. When she saw Andie, she went up to her and gave her a hug. Andie flashed me a grateful look and I saw her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

I had no intention of getting emotional about this moment; I was still as pissed off with my wife as I'd been before. Nothing had changed. But I won't lie - seeing how much the two of them loved each other made my heart soften a bit.

Until Alexis ran back upstairs to get her dolls to take in the car with her. that is. Once we were alone, Andie came over to me. "Thank you for whatever it was you said to her." She gave me a small smile.

I shrugged. "No problem. Didn't want you two to part angry."

"You mean like we are?" She arched a sardonic brow at me.

I sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say that hasn't already been said, Andie. Let's just get you to the airport."

"I know you're still pissed off at me. And frankly I'm not too thrilled with you, either. You've been a complete ass about this whole business right from the beginning, and I'm sick of it. I think us being apart for three months might be exactly what we need right now to figure out if this marriage is still working for both of us." She turned to the closet to pull on her winter jacket.

Frowning, I stared at the back of her head as she flipped her hair out of her collar. "What the fuck does that mean?" I asked roughly. "I should consider this a separation while you're in New York? Is that what you want?"

Andie looked back at me. "Don't make this all on me, Damon. You've been distancing yourself from me for months. Since the day I told you about this. Well, here's some alone time for you to figure out if you want it to be permanent or not."

Was she fucking kidding me? I was seething. If I didn't know our daughter would reappear at any moment, I would have lost my shit. My cheeks were hot. My fists clenched and unclenched at my sides.

When Alexis came down the stairs, I told them in as level as voice as I could manage that I'd meet them in the car. Andie picked up the smaller of the two suitcases and they both went out the door. As soon as it shut behind them, I took off upstairs and down the hall to the back bedroom, grabbing a pillow off the spare bed and burying my face in it. With a primal roar, I bellowed out my impotent fury and I prayed the cotton would muffle the sound enough that it wouldn't reach the driveway.

That was it, for me - the last fucking straw that broke me down. My defining (although certainly not shining) moment. The moment when everything changed. Again.

* * *

**Elena**

Coming back to work on January sixth, I was filled with an odd mixture of excitement and dread. I don't know how to explain it, but I simultaneously wanted desperately to see Damon and hoped to avoid him for a while longer. I deliberately didn't contact him and heard nothing from him on the Monday.

By the time Tuesday was half over, I'd thought I might get through a second day without seeing him. It was nearly time for lunch and I was trying to finish up the spreadsheet I was working on before I took my break. Suddenly I heard an excited child's voice coming from the end of the hall on the other side of my cubicle. Narrowing my eyes, I wondered who'd brought their kid to work. There was only one woman in my department with young children, and she was off with the flu. Then I caught the unmistakable timbre of Damon's voice.

"Let's go say 'hi' to uncle Alaric first. We need to tell him congratulations."

_Shit._ Damon had Alexis with him, and they were headed to see Ric, who had proposed to Jenna over the holidays. That meant there was a pretty good chance they'd pop by to see me next. I have no valid explanation for why I instantly panicked at the thought of that, but I did. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there pronto, before Damon saw me.

When I was pretty sure they'd gone into Ric's office, I looked across the aisle to Bonnie.

"Bonnie?" I whispered.

She didn't look up.

"Bonnie!" I repeated, louder and more insistently. She gave a start and turned to me. "You ready to go?" I asked, in a low voice. It still came out sounding more demanding than I'd intended.

Frowning, she glanced back at her monitor. "Sure. Just give me a minute."

"I'm going right now! See you in the caf." My tone was harsh and I knew from the confused look on her face that I likely owed her an apology. But I was frantic. My pulse was racing. I grabbed my purse, slammed shut the drawer it had been in, and nearly ran out of the department. I saw from the corner of my eye that Ric's office door was open and I prayed Damon wouldn't pick that moment to glance over to our row of cubicles and notice me fleeing.

When I was halfway to the cafeteria, I realized there was a good chance he and Alexis would make that their next stop, possibly with Alaric in tow and I nearly screeched to a halt. Pivoting on my heel, I switched directions and went straight for the nearest exit. Change of plans – I was taking myself out to lunch today.

I texted Caroline and Bonnie to tell them that a sudden errand had come up that needed running and I wouldn't be joining them today. Then I went and sat in my car. I gripped the steering wheel tightly in my fists and began to take deep breaths in and out. Was this another panic attack? If so, what was the reason for it? Why did I freak out at the idea of seeing Damon and Alexis? I missed him so damn much; it had already been way too long since we'd seen each other. And yet here I was, desperate to avoid him. What the heck was wrong with me?

My appetite was gone, but I drove to a nearby park and sat on a bench under a tree listening to my iPod for twenty minutes. When I got back to my desk, I was relieved to find there was no sign of either of them. I immediately apologized to Bonnie for my strange behavior, then tried my best to forget about it.

The following day, however, I was forced to confront the Damon situation early on. Shortly after nine o'clock, an e-mail from him arrived in my inbox.

_Please come see me at your earliest convenience. Bring the client file we discussed last._

I had to laugh at that. The client file we discussed last? Which would have been at least three or four weeks ago, sometime in mid-December. I had no idea which company it was, and I was willing to bet neither did he. It was obviously Damon-speak for 'bring a file with you so it looks like we're discussing business.'

Sighing, I realized I couldn't put off speaking to him any longer, nor did I honestly really want to. I grabbed the nearest file folder from my desk, made a pit-stop in the washroom to check my appearance, and slowly made my way over to the Marketing department.

I stopped in his doorway with the file clutched tightly to my chest. I could feel my heart pounding below it. "Hey," I greeted him softly.

Damon glanced up in surprise. "That was fast." He'd gotten his hair cut at some point over the previous three weeks. It was shorter at the back and sides, but still as messy-looking as ever on top. He looked sexy as hell. No surprise there.

"Saw no point in postponing the inevitable," I mumbled, dropping into a chair.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "How are you? How were your holidays? Did you make it to Florida?"

He smirked at me. "If you'd stuck around yesterday, you'd already know the answers to those questions."

Crap, did he see me scamper out of there like my ass was on fire? I hoped not. I debated playing dumb for a moment, before realizing he'd assume I probably would have heard Alexis' shrill voice. "Sorry. I was running late."

He frowned for a second. "O…kay. If you say so." I shrugged. This was awkward. I hated awkward. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were before. Before I'd opened my big stupid mouth. Suddenly I really didn't want to be sitting in his office with him any longer.

Before I could make up some reason why I couldn't stay, he began to tell me about his Christmas break. James and Miriam had been down for a few days. He'd had an entire house full of people for Christmas day. On the twenty-eighth he'd driven down to Florida with Alexis and they hadn't coming home until January second.

Then he surprised me with the news that Andie had accepted a three-month mat leave contract in New York City and had left this past Sunday.

My mouth fell open. "She's going to be gone for three whole months?"

He nodded. "During the week, anyway. Probably a few weekends as well."

"Are you…okay with that?"

Shrugging, he replied, "Not especially, no. But my opinion didn't matter much in her decision."

I was floored. "How can she want to be apart from you guys for so long? I don't get it." As much as I loved my job, I just couldn't fathom leaving my family for three months in order to further it. And I didn't even have a child.

"I don't get it either. But am I surprised? Nope, not at all. It is what it is."

My eyes narrowed as I studied him closely. "You're furious." I observed quietly.

"I'm not exactly thrilled. My daughter will be without her mother for three months - the occasional weekend notwithstanding. But I'll be there for her, and she'll be fine. We'll be fine. We always are." His lips were set in a tight line.

"I'm so sorry, Damon," I told him, and I meant it. He had enough to deal with without Andie up and leaving for months on end.

"Don't be. Like I said, it is what it is. I expected it. But enough about unpleasant things…I've been thinking about you. How have you been?"

I smiled and he smiled back at me, a genuinely pleased one this time. I skimmed briefly over my somber Christmas with my mom, and then begin to tell him about our trip to Mexico. He laughed along with me at my description of New Year's Eve at the disco and how I'd drank too much and ended up having to call it a night early.

Suddenly I realized that was probably the first time I'd laughed since before my dad had died, and the grin fell away from my face.

Apparently Damon was thinking something similar. "Elena, I've missed your laugh. I've missed you. It's been too long."

"Me, too," I replied simply. He had no idea just how much I'd missed him, how I'd thought of him nearly every moment I'd been on vacation. Just being in close proximity to him right now had already boosted my spirits immeasurably.

"We should hang out more. You're good for my state of mind. Let's have lunch again? Next week?" His expression was so hopeful.

My brows furrowed, thinking of our emotionally fraught last lunch together a couple months ago. "You think that's a smart idea?" I wondered.

Damon took a deep breath. "Doesn't seem like being smart has made either one of us very happy." He looked straight into my eyes.

I thought about his words and I couldn't argue. It was completely true. And I wanted to spend time with him badly, no matter what the context. So I agreed. "Sure. Just tell me when and where."

He grinned widely, and I felt myself mirror it. My heart rate was nearly normal. I was relaxed and almost…could that be happiness? I hadn't been sure I'd ever be able to feel like this again. In that moment things between us felt just right.

He told me he'd let me know once he figured out details, and I went back to my cubicle with a lightness in my step that hadn't been there for what felt like a very long time.

* * *

Right at exactly four o'clock, my desk phone rang. My brows drew together in surprise as I saw the extension flash up on the small screen. It was Damon.

"How does Friday sound?" he said, as soon as I answered.

I glanced at my day planner. "The seventeenth? I can do that."

"No, two days from now. I can't wait that long."

My breath hitched in surprise. "Okay, this Friday it is. Where and when?"

"We didn't really eat last time. How about the same place?"

Confused as to why he'd pick _there_ again, I answered, "Um, sure. That's cool."

"Any chance you could take the afternoon off?" His voice sounded a bit tentative.

I paused for a few seconds, startled at his suggestion. "I guess I could probably come up with a reason to ask for it. Why? What did you have in mind?" My heart-rate began to accelerate in anticipation of his response.

"Remember what we talked about last time we were there?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied slowly. "How could I ever forget?"

"Do you recall our little "What If" game?"

"Uh huh" My throat felt tight. Where was he going with this?

I heard him inhale a deep breath. "What if I told you lunch wasn't all I wanted?"

_Oh my God._ I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and braced my forehead on my palm. Just what exactly was he asking me? I didn't know if I could deal with another rejection at this point.

"Damon…I…we…" I sighed. "I thought you made your opinion pretty clear."

"I know. But…you don't understand. I can't stop thinking about you, Elena. Everything's changed since I met you." He lowered his voice an octave. "Every damn thing is different."

"Different how?" I breathed out, nearly unable to speak.

His words were scarcely above a whisper, but I heard them as clearly as if he was right beside me, speaking directly into my ear.

"I want more."

* * *

**A/N** _So...some pretty monumental changes taking place internally for both of them now. This story is about to enter phase 2. Are you guys ready for this? Pretty please review and let me know what you think? Thank you SO much, all of you!_


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

* * *

**Elena**

I don't recall my drive home from work. I know I made it to my house safely, but I had no memory of any stoplights, turns, or cars passing me on the highway. I couldn't tell you a single song I heard on the radio. Hell, I couldn't even tell you if the radio was even _on_. I don't know how many minutes it took, if I was speeding, or crawling along like my grandmother. In hindsight, it's amazing I made it back in one piece, as I'd been completely on autopilot.

Three words played in my head over and over on an endless loop. It was all I could hear.

"_I want more."_

When I pulled into my driveway and turned of my engine, I just sat there, staring unseeingly at the slate blue garage door through my windshield. I lifted a hand in front of my face and saw my fingers were trembling.

"_I want more."_

I didn't know if I wanted to laugh and run in happy circles, or burst into tears, curl up into a ball and rock myself like an infant.

He wanted more. And, God help me, so did I.

Thankfully Matt's truck wasn't there yet, which meant I had the house to myself. I forced my mind to focus on simple tasks like getting out of my car and going inside, climbing the steps to my bedroom to change into a hoodie and yoga pants, returning downstairs to pour myself a glass of wine.

As I sat on a stool the kitchen, sipping the merlot and obsessing for the seventeen thousandth time over what Damon had said to me earlier, my cell phone buzzed on the countertop. The text was from Matt.

_Heading home. Want me to stop at the Palace and pick up pizza?_

My stomach rebelled at the thought of putting food into it. My mind rebelled at the thought of trying to act normal around my husband. Matt had always known me so well. I was convinced he'd see right through me.

Thinking quickly, I texted him back.

_Going to mom's in a few minutes. Get yourself some food. Might not be home til late._

Next I called my mother and told her I was coming over. Time spent alone with her was never going to be my favorite thing in the world, but at the moment it sounded infinitely preferable to staying home with Matt. I ended up packing an overnight bag and sleeping in my childhood bedroom that night.

That was how I avoided seeing my husband on Wednesday night. Thursday night I wasn't quite so lucky. By the time he came home, I had dinner ready and I was also nursing a massive stress headache. I'd taken my contacts out and put on my old glasses, but my brain still throbbed relentlessly. I swore little demons were pounding away with pickaxes at the inside of my skull

I wasn't looking forward to seeing Matt. I knew as soon as I did I'd feel the weight of my guilt come crashing down. Then I wondered how in God's name I'd ever be able to face him the following evening? Would he know instantly? Would he take one look at my face and see my deceit written in my eyes in burning letters? Would a scarlet 'A' appear on my chest, visible only to him?

I'd already had more than twenty-four hours to think over things. You'd probably assume I'd been fluctuating back and worth about whether or not I really wanted to go through with it, whether I really intended to betray my marriage vows. It would make sense to presume that. But you'd be wrong. I'd been through all those thoughts over and over so many times since last summer and I was no longer confused about how I felt. I was in love with Damon. Our timing was horrible, but I believed without a shadow of a doubt we were meant to be together. I was scared out of my mind about taking the next step forward, but at the same time I knew it was right for me.

Matt told me about his day over dinner and I listened, a little. Mostly I pushed food around on my plate and took increasingly larger sips from my wine glass. I wondered if it was possible for my head to actually cave in from pain.

"-move to Canada."

"Who's moving to Canada?" I asked, only vaguely interested in the answer.

Matt laughed. "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?"

I looked up into his overly familiar dark blue eyes. Yawning, I covered my mouth with my fingers. "I'm sorry. Just tired. You were saying something about John Tanner? Is he moving to Canada?"

He sighed. "No. I said, _we're _moving to Canada." My eyes widened in shock and he chuckled softly again. "Don't worry, we're not really going anywhere. I was just checking to see if you were paying attention."

"I said I was sorry," I replied testily. I was so not in the mood for small talk tonight.

For a few moments he silently regarded me. I flinched under his intense scrutiny. "Elena, have you given any more thought to seeing a grief councilor?" he finally asked.

Something sparked within me at his words. I stood up and sighed heavily, taking my plate and dumping it into the sink with a crash.

I couldn't tamper down my annoyance. "This again? What? Do you and Dana tag team each other or something? You both think I'm losing my mind – is that it?"

"You know we're just worried about you. I don't understand why you're so dead set against it?"

"I don't need a shrink! I just need you guys to give me some space!" I shouted. "You're smothering me! I need to deal with my grief in my own way. And it will take time. Maybe lots of time. Maybe I'll never get over it! I don't know. But what I do know is that I don't want to talk to some stranger about it!" I heard my own voice grow louder and louder with each word, irrational anger consuming me.

"So far I've been giving you nothing _but_ space to deal with this your own way. And it's not working. More than two months have passed now. It's time to start pulling yourself back together." His hand landed on my shoulder. I flinched and pulled away, heading for the stairs.

"See, and there's another thing," he told me, frustration in every word. I turned to look back at him. "You've pushed me away almost completely. It's my job as your husband to be there for you, and you won't let me be anywhere near you. You sleep in the rec room, or at your mom's. When you're with me, you barely seem to know I'm in the room with you. Something is really wrong, Elena, and maybe it was wrong even before your dad-"

"Don't say it!" I warned him, choking on the words as my throat closed up. "Just don't."

His voice softened. "He's not coming back, 'Lena. I'm so sorry, and I miss him, too, but he's gone. And you need to accept that or you're never gonna be able to move past it."

Tears overflowed at his words and ran rivulets down my burning cheeks. "I can't," I whimpered.

He pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight against his chest and stroking my hair. And for a moment I let him comfort me. For a fleeting moment I remembered what being in love with Matt had once felt like: protected, adored, secure. Just for a moment.

Then reality crashed back into me and I tore myself away again. "I'm sorry, Matty. You're probably right. I'll…I'll call my doctor tomorrow and ask for a referral." I didn't know for sure if I really meant those words or not, but I knew it was what he needed to hear from me.

"Good. I think it'll help you." He smiled at me, but I didn't return it.

Swiping the tears from my cheeks, I turned to go up the stairs, but he called me back again.

"'Lena?"

My eyes rose to meet his.

"You still my girl?" His face was open and honest. His grin was the same one I'd known since the day we'd met so many years ago, when we were both young, innocent kids.

I was mortified. No, no I wasn't. I was _so_ not his girl anymore. I just didn't have any idea how to tell him that.

I kept my face blank and held his gaze for a few seconds longer that was probably necessary. Then I simply nodded and continued up the steps to bed.

* * *

Friday, January tenth – yet another day in that incredible year that changed the path of my life forever – dawned clear and bright and cold. Surprisingly, I did actually sleep the previous night. Not much, but I did. Matt had left early for a before-school staff meeting, which was propitious. I spent a long time under the shower, shampooing and shaving and scrubbing with my favourite mango-peach body wash. Meticulous primping was not normally my style if I didn't have a wedding to attend or anything, but that morning I took the extra effort. Straightening, then curling my hair, dusting on powder, applying a coat of waterproof mascara, choosing just the right shade of berry gloss – it all felt like an important ritual was being performed.

None of the clothes hanging in my closet seemed right for this…whatever this was. Finally I pulled on a black skirt and light blue three-quarter sleeved sweater with a square neckline. I slipped on my black patent-leather kitten heels and decided that would have to do.

Reaching for my jewelry box to grab a pair of earrings, I noticed my wedding rings sitting on my dresser, waiting to return to the third finger of my left hand. My insides tightened as I looked at them. My engagement ring had a small solitaire diamond and my wedding band was simple and gold. We'd hadn't had much money at the time Matt bought them, and I didn't have expensive taste or any need for flashy jewelry. But they had meant so much to me. They still did, although now it was more about the memories of what once was, and less about the here and now.

I picked them up and slid them home. They would probably end up in my purse later, but for now, they needed to be in their customary place.

Before I left the bedroom to head to my car, I took one last glance in my mirror. I knew it might very well be the last time I'd be able to look myself in the eye and still see some remnants of the girl I used to be staring back. There wasn't much left of her, and after this afternoon, she would undoubtedly be gone.

I straightened my shoulders and glared at the girl reflected back at me. I was done with her. It was time for her to disappear and I didn't even think I'd miss her. I was ready to become the new Elena now. I welcomed her with open arms.

* * *

As I pulled my car into a parking spot behind the South Lynchburg Sheraton, my heart was firmly lodged in my throat. For a minute I just sat there, trying to will my breathing to even out. The word 'nervous' didn't even begin to encompass what I was feeling.

I grabbed my bag and cautiously made my way into the lobby. Every nerve ending in my body was on high alert. The main foyer of the hotel was tastefully decorated, with clean, modern black and white everywhere. Potted plants of tall green ficus added splashes of color to the room.

The women at the front desk greeted me with a smile and asked how she could help. She was young and pretty, with wavy blonde hair, pale blue eyes and a luminous white smile. I wondered for a second if Damon had checked in with her, and if so, if they'd flirted. Then I mentally chastised myself. Even if he did flirt with her, or anyone else for that matter, it was none of my business. And I knew he was here for one reason and one reason only: me.

With a gulp, I told her the same thing Damon had told me over the phone about thirty minutes ago, that a key should be waiting for me under the name 'Elena Miller'.

"Welcome to the Sheraton, Mrs. Miller," the blonde told me. "You're in room 414." I took the key card she held out to me with a small smile, thanked her and turned toward the elevators. Just before I got there, I noticed the women's powder room on the right and slipped inside.

I took a few moments to freshen up my antiperspirant and splash some cold water on my face to cool down my overheated skin. Off came my wedding rings, then I removed my pantyhose and tucked them into my bag. They would only be an unsexy nuisance, and probably smelled a bit like sweaty feet anyway. Next, I wiped off the remaining traces of my lip-gloss and applied a clear balm instead. No point getting lip color in places where it shouldn't. And yes, I had very much thought about all this. A lot. Most of the past couple days, in fact

I took one final glance into the wall-sized mirror above the countertop, made a kissy face at myself, and said goodbye to that girl forever.

Then, with a pull in my heart I couldn't resist even if I wanted to, I headed for the elevator.

* * *

I stood in front of the pale green door to room 414 for what seemed like forever, debating whether to knock, knock then use my key card, or just use the card and walk straight in. I could hear the faint sound of the television emanating from within.

Finally I screwed up my courage, slipped the card into the reader, and knocked gently before pushing open the door.

After closing it, I turned to find Damon standing just steps from me, eyes wide. He wore charcoal gray trousers and a royal blue dress shirt with the top few buttons undone. His hair was disheveled. His feet were bare. I could see the front part of the fish tattoo on the side of his foot. When my eyes lifted back to his again, I flushed under his gaze as he drank me in.

"You look beautiful," he told me, in a low voice. His tone had a slightly rough edge. I fleetingly wondered if he'd gotten as little sleep as I had last night.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile, suddenly shy. I wanted to tell him he looked so good he literally made me weak in the knees, but the words refused to come.

He retreated so I could walk into the main room, and my eyes were drawn to a large television attached to the wall on the left, showing the bright green fairway of a golf tournament somewhere down south. Across from it sat a queen-sized bed, white coverlet rumpled from where he'd been lounging as he'd waited for me. Beyond the bed were two white leather loveseats that faced each other, and between them a modern glass and steel coffee table upon which rested a vase of roses, a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Thick white drapes were pulled wide to let in the sun. The entire room seemed to be glowing. Was it wrong that my first instinct was to the shut the curtains and hide us from the rest of the world?

Damon cleared his throat and went over to examine the wine. "It's a cabernet franc," he observed. "Would you like a glass?"

Mutely I shook my head. Wine might relax me, but I wanted to remember every last minute of this afternoon. It might be all we'd ever have, and I didn't want to obscure a single moment of those future memories.

"Okay." He set it back on the table and returned to where I was still standing against the wall. Studying my face, he asked, "You alright?"

A small laugh escaped me. "I'm…just…"

"Scared shitless?" he supplied with a wry grin.

Nodding in relief, I confessed, "Yes. Completely."

"Me, too," he admitted, taking a step toward me.

"Really?"

He closed the small distance between us and leaned forward until his forehead rested against mine, hands braced on the wall on either side of me. I held my breath. His face was so close now. I could smell the clean scent of his cologne. I could count every tiny dark fleck in his irises, trace every laugh line creasing his skin. God, he was so, so close.

"Terrified," he murmured.

I looked into those mesmerizing blue eyes, which were now mere inches from my own, and I saw all the love I had for this man reflected back at me. And it was exhilarating and frightening and everything I'd ever wanted all rolled up in one.

"You can still walk away," he told me softly. His voice held a slight pleading note. I wasn't totally sure if he was pleading for me to actually do it or not.

I bit my lip. I wished he'd just kiss me already. "I don't want to walk away," I whispered. "Do you?"

"Uh uh." He was still staring at me. Neither of us moved. I don't think either of us was even breathing. Seconds, possibly millennia, raced past as we drowned in each other's eyes.

Finally he broke the trance. "Elena?" One of his palms moved to cup my jaw, thumb stroking along the side of my cheek.

"Uh huh?" I breathed.

"Gonna kiss you now."

And before I could utter another syllable, he did.

My eyelids slipped shut as his mouth met mine, carefully, tentatively at first. His lips were soft, gentle, cautious even. Like he was waiting for me to change my mind and pull away. But I had no intention of pulling away. When he kissed me, I forgot who I really was, who we really were. We became simply two people who needed each other more than our common sense told us we shouldn't.

Winding my arms around his waist, I pulled him against me, pressing my chest firmly into his. I wondered if he could feel my heart palpitating. All his caution seemed to drain away and he cradled my face with both hands, angling my head to the side to deepen the kiss. At first I simply succumbed and let him take control, but then desire spread out from that spot in my lower belly and washed over me. I didn't just want him; I _needed_ him. Body, mind and soul.

My temperature was spiking. So hot. Too hot. I slipped my hands under Damon's shirt and ran them over his bare skin. The muscles of his back flexed beneath my fingers. He was burning up, too. We were both about to spontaneously combust right there in that rented room and there wasn't a damn thing anyone would be able to do to stop it.

Our tongues tangoed, twisting, sliding, parrying, exploring every surface of each other's eager mouths. I was so wrapped up in kissing him I only vaguely registered him trailing his fingers along the sides of my neck, over my shoulders and down, coming to a rest at the small of my back. He moaned into my mouth and slid his hands up along each side my spine, lifting the hem of my sweater along with them. When he got to my shoulder blades, I pushed away from the wall and let cool air rush against my overheated skin. Nothing could reduce that heat. I whimpered in protest when he tore his mouth from mine and tugged my sweater up over my head, tossing it carelessly into a chair in the corner.

I had deliberately put on a matching blue bra and panties set this morning. It was the most expensive lingerie I owned. Actually, it was probably the only matching set I owned. Judging from the expression on Damon's face as he ogled my satin and lace-clad breasts, he highly approved.

He exhaled a loud rush of air as his eyes met mine once again, his questing fingers finding the clasp at the back of my skirt. I held my breath in anticipation as I pushed the top button of his shirt through its hole and moved to the next one below. It was more difficult than expected; my fingers were shaking as they worked. At last his shirt fell from his shoulders to the floor at the same time I stepped out of my skirt and heels.

My God, the look of hunger in his eyes as they raked over me – had any man ever looked at me that way before? I didn't think so. I couldn't help it; I began to feel self-conscious under his stare and had a crazy urge to cover myself back up.

"You are so gorgeous," he murmured. With a groan, he pulled me to him and kissed me again. As I ran a hand up over his smooth chest, he picked me up and carried me to the bed.

My head hit the pillow and then he was above me, our lips still joined. His tongue slid against mine as he kissed me harder. His hands began exploring my newly exposed skin, and I quivered under his touch.

"You cold?" he whispered against my lips, lifting his head and tugging at the edge of the comforter.

"I'm…no. I'm fine," I told him, as I pulled him back to me. I wasn't cold, I just wanted more. More kissing. More touching. More _Damon_. His fingers feathered their way up my side, coming to rest over the lace covering my right breast and squeezing lightly. I gasped as he used one fingernail to trace circles around the hardening tip.

He chuckled deep in his throat in response, and that sexy-as-all-hell sound, not to mention what his hands were currently up to, did dangerous things to my libido. His mouth left mine and trailed a path down the side of my jaw and along my neck, grazing my skin lightly with his teeth as he went. I threaded my fingers into his hair as he traveled lower, along my collarbone, over my shoulder. He slid my bra strap down my arm to make way for his kisses. Another involuntary shiver shook me when his lips found their way to my chest, then locked onto a bra-clad nipple.

"God, Damon…" I moaned, arching my back, pressing myself more firmly against his mouth.

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. "Tell me what you want, Elena."

"I want…" I sighed, my eyelids slipping shut.

"Tell me," he said, soft yet insistent, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

"More…I want…more," I confessed, pushing myself a few inches off the bed to reach back and unhook my bra. I dropped onto the soft mattress and Damon tugged it down my arms and tossed it over his shoulder. Heat flooded my face as he stared at my naked chest, longing and lust clear in his eyes. His fingers traced gentle lines across the swell of my breasts, down along their sides and over my abdomen. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his lips to capture one hard, pebbled peak.

Damon was a man who knew exactly how to please a woman's body. I'd only ever been with one man before this and I wondered if my lack of experience with anything more than basic vanilla would be noticeable. I mean, I'd seen parts of a few dirty movies, read some racy novels, but I'd never actually _done_ anything particularly adventurous in the bedroom. But I highly suspected he had, and I had no idea what he might expect from me.

The fingers of his other hand began to pinch and twist my unattended nipple in a delirious combination of light pain and intense pleasure as his mouth and teeth claimed ownership of my flesh. My body wasn't used to being tormented and tantalized like this, and frankly it loved every second of it. I could feel myself growing slicker and more desperate to feel his touch elsewhere.

He switched to my neglected breast, cupping it firmly before lowering his lips to give it the attention it craved. It felt scandalous and wonderful and I never wanted him to stop. The fingers of his other hand began to wander over my ribcage, glide down my stomach, then trace gently along the elastic of my blue satin panties.

My control started to slip as he suckled me. The slightly abrasive wool of his dress pants rubbed against my knee as he hooked one leg over me, holding me in place. I squeezed my thighs together, trying unsuccessfully to relieve the tension building between them. Desperation was growing within me. I needed to be touched. I needed Damon to touch me.

As if sensing my turmoil, he finally slipped his hand beneath the fabric and found the place where I craved him most. He ran his fingers over my wetness, and I held my breath, waiting to see what he'd do. He took his time caressing and exploring me, getting to know every inch of my pliant flesh. When at last he eased a careful finger into me, I bucked upward and gasped in pleasure.

He lifted his face to look me in the eye. "You okay?" he murmured.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and nodded. All I could think about was the sinfully delectable way he was making me feel. I spread my knees wider, giving him better access.

With a dangerous smile, he replied, "Good," and began to slowly stroke inside me, curling his finger upward and hitting just the right spot. Groaning in approval, I raked a hand through his hair, tugging slightly. At my response he added a second finger, moving them a bit faster. I inhaled sharply and unintentionally held the air in my lungs as I focused on the sensations he was creating.

He resumed his ministrations to my breasts, now slippery from his tongue, and stroked me down below, rubbing his thumb over my most sensitive spot, alternating between oh-so-gentle and intense. I didn't have to tell him what I needed; he just knew. I felt like he already knew my body better than anyone ever had. My breath exhaled in a rush and I squirmed below him, internal pressure building, building.

"Damon!" I moaned, as my first climax bowled me over. All my muscles went stiff and my entire body trembled and convulsed against him. Sweat beaded my forehead. Gooseflesh erupted over my chest. As my mind floated off to some other world, I ever so vaguely heard his distant voice commanding me to keep breathing, just keep breathing.

As I slowly descended back to planet Earth again, I realized he was watching me intently. He smiled as he briefly pressed his lips to mine. "Tesoro, you are so incredibly sexy when you just let go like that," he whispered.

I took a few more deep calming breaths. "What does it mean?" I wondered.

"Tesoro?" he asked, and I nodded. "It's something my mother used to call my…used to call Giuseppe."

I pressed my lips together and the corner of his mouth twitched as he looked at me. "I know that face. And the answer is 'no'. Never. Only for you." He dropped another kiss to my lips. I didn't think I'd ever cease to be amazed by how easily he read me.

I sighed in relief and stroked the side of his face with my fingers. "You look…" I trailed those same fingers down the muscular expanse of his torso to his belt buckle. He arched a brow at me. "Entirely overdressed," I finished with a smile, hooking one finger into the leather strap and tugging it free.

"Couldn't agree more," he laughed, pulling back to stand up and undo his belt. I couldn't help it; I glanced away, another wave of shyness coming over me. It was broad daylight. The sun was shining in. And the man I was truly, madly, deeply in love with, but had never seen without clothes on before, was stripping his pants off right beside me. I blushed at the thought.

I busied myself with pulling back the coverlet. The sheets were starched white cotton, softer to the touch than I would have assumed. Slipping below them, I covered myself, suddenly fascinated with the golf tournament on the television.

Damon climbed into bed next to me and I heard him chuckle softly again. I turned to look at him.

"It's a little late now to be shy, don't you think?" he asked, reaching for the converter to silence the TV.

Flushing deeper, I mumbled, "I know."

He wrapped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me to him. "One of us still has an item of clothing on," he observed, dipping his fingers below the elastic of my panties and squeezing my bum.

"How can you be so relaxed about all this?" I wondered, with a small smile.

Giving that easy grin he seemed to save just for me, he said, "Simple. I'm naked. You're damn near naked. We've both just jumped off this cliff together. What's there to be nervous about at this point?" He kissed me again, sweetly and gently, as his hand continued to caress my curves.

"You're right. I know." I agreed, when he pulled back for air.

"Say that again," he told me, a picture of innocence.

"Say what?"

"That I'm right." His eyes twinkled as that sexy smirk reappeared.

"Shut up." I laughed, pulling him in for another kiss and as we did, he deftly tugged my panties down my legs.

Kissing Damon was definitely my favorite thing. I felt like I could kiss this man all damn day. But he had some other ideas in mind for how to spend our afternoon together, which I was all for. He rolled on top of me, pressing me into the pillow-top mattress with his weight.

As our kisses became more fervent, I shifted my legs so he was resting between them. I could feel the hard evidence of his desire for me pressing insistently against my thigh. My hands traced the outline of his shoulder blades, glided down the ridges of his spine, roamed over his body the way his had done mine. When my exploring fingers drifted below his lower back and grasped his amazing butt, he groaned against my mouth.

"Elena?"

"Uh huh?"

He rose up on one elbow so he could look me directly in the eyes. His brows drew together for second. "Any second thoughts?" he asked me softly.

My throat tightened as I shook my head. "I want this," I murmured. "You?"

He stared at me, his formerly baby blue irises darkened with lust, his lips swollen from our passionate kisses, and I knew his answer before he even said it. "Not a chance."

Clarity refocused his face for a moment. "Condom," he muttered, starting to roll to the side. I grabbed his arm to stop him and he arched a questioning eyebrow at me.

"I'm on the Pill," I told him. "And there's never been anyone else."

"Really? You've only ever…that means I'm…" Damon's eyes widened as he got the message. I smiled a shy smile and nodded, stroking my fingers along the side of his face.

"I've got a clean bill of health," he assured me. I stared into those entrancing eyes of his. At the moment they were deep as the ocean and twice as likely to drown me. This was it. This was our time. And I loved him. Even though I knew the Universe could easily break me into a thousand pieces in punishment for it, I loved him.

"Okay," I whispered, raising my knees up to spread myself for him as he settled back into place.

His mouth opened as though he was about to say something else, but then he pressed it closed again. He planted gentle kisses on my nose, my lips, my chin. Sliding one hand down between us, he positioned himself and carefully, ever so carefully, pushed inside me.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God…_

My lips fell open with a loud gasp. It felt so different to what I'd imagined, so much…_more_. The sensation of having Damon within me was far more intense, both mentally and physically, than I could have ever anticipated. A sentimental lump of emotion rose in my throat. I'd waiting so long for this…this _joining_. It was nearly overwhelming.

Instantly he stopped all action. "You okay?"

I took a deep breath and ran my hands down to the base of his spine, coming to a rest at that sexy little divot just above his bum. "Perfect," I assured him softly, and he began to move.

His lips found mine again; he couldn't seem to stay away from them for long. We clutched each other as if we would never get enough, my fingers stroking his back as he pumped his hips against me. It was one of the most…tremendous…sensations I think I've ever had. Not like what I imagined, that was for sure.

One of my hands came up to tangle into his thick hair while the other moved lower, pressing him ever closer. I loved the feel of his muscles flexing beneath my fingers. I was starting to realize I loved most things about Damon, except for the one tiny little fact that he wasn't really mine. If I was only going to be able to have him for these few hours, I was determined to make our time together count.

Breaking my mouth away from his, I gasped, "On top," and he obligingly rolled us over. The covers fell away and a beam of sunlight landed across his sweat-slicked chest. I smiled and bent forward to lick a trail right through it, from his nipple, which elicited a delectable little moan, up to his neck, finishing back at his lips again.

Swiveling my hips down onto him, I braced my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. His fingers found their way to my breasts, squeezing and teasing me. The exhilarating pleasure-pain he was creating in me, the way my heart seemed to sing every time our eyes connected – it was entirely unique, entirely us. I could feel my control begin to slip again as I moved on him, breathing accelerating along with my speed.

Damon sensed this, and he flipped me beneath him again, taking charge once more as our mouths rejoined. For the most part I was a strong, confident woman out there in the real world, but right here, right now? His self-assured dominance was erotic as all hell. If he'd wanted to tie my wrists to the bedposts at that moment, I would have spread them wide and begged him to do with me as he would.

As his previously unhurried thrusts picked up intensity, I lifted my knees higher and pushed my heels into the back of his thighs. Without warning, my second climax tore through me and I clenched my entire body beneath him. The noise I made was more growl than moan. It was low and guttural and raw, and I could hardly believe it had come from me.

He pressed his face into the curve of my neck, driving into me harder as I rode out the quivery aftershocks of my high. My fingers feathered up and down his sides as he panted for air, his own release approaching. With a shudder and a gasp, he bucked against me a final time and collapsed in a heap on top of me, utterly spent.

I held him to me, one hand in the hair at the back of his neck, the other around his waist, and I kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his closed eyelids, as he fought to catch his breath. My emotions surged forward and delirious unshed tears began to itch at the corners of my eyes. Overwhelming love encompassed me as I looked at him.

He rolled his weight to the side, eyelids fluttering open, a happy, satiated smile gracing his face.

"My God, Damon," I breathed. "Do you have any idea how I feel about you?" I asked softly.

He gazed into my eyes, all seriousness, searching for something. At last, it seemed he found it. Pressing a finger to my lips, he leaned his forehead against mine, still staring at me like he couldn't get enough of me.

I was just about to speak again when he stunned me to silence by whispering, "I might, yeah. And Elena?"

"Yes?"

"Me, too."

* * *

**A/N** _Okay, so this chapter just about killed me. I agonized over it for weeks, which is why I'm a little behind now, sorry! Two of my most favourite authors, JWAB and Goldnox, went over the 2nd half of this chapter with a fine tooth comb, betaing it for dear life. Their suggestions have improved it immensely from what it once was and I have to send out a HUGE thank you to both. Also special thanks to sauriemilia who pre-read this and gave me some great advice. And last of all, but most of all, to all of you, who blew me away with your reviews and love for the previous chapter. Holy cow! I hope this one lives up to your very high expectations. Please leave me a review letting me know how I did with this much anticipated moment? Thank you!  
_


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

* * *

**Damon**

We fell asleep in each other's arms, Elena right away and myself much more gradually. I lay there watching her face as it relaxed into complete oblivion, lightly stroking her sweat-dampened arm, her soft, tangled hair. Long dark lashes fluttered against flushed skin as she began to dream. Every slight edge softened; in sleep she seemed so young and sweet and innocent. Looking at her, I felt something shift inside me. I had a nearly uncontrollable urge to hold her close and protect her, shield her from anything that could ever cause her pain.

Which was ironic I guess, considering I was probably the top candidate in that department.

I hadn't told Elena about Andie's insistence I consider her three-month contract in New York a trial separation. I'd debated it, but ultimately decided it would put more pressure on whatever this was between us than we needed at the moment.

My feelings for Elena were…intense. And growing more with each passing moment. I could love her. Maybe I did love her. But it wouldn't be fair to give her hope or imply promises I might not be able to keep. If Andie and I did split, and she had a reason to feel vindictive about it, she could take Alexis from me. Mothers always got preferential treatment from the courts if they wanted full custody, unless negligence could be proven. Because of that, I wouldn't ask her for a divorce - if it happened, it would have to come from Andie. And it couldn't be because she'd found out I'd been unfaithful, or she'd take everything. I was taking a big enough risk at the moment even being with Elena; there was no way in hell I was going to be the one to initiate ending my marriage. I refused to take the chance of losing my daughter.

This made things really fucking complicated and any potential for a future with the woman in my arms sadly unlikely. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with her on a permanent basis. I did. So much. It felt right - incredibly right - but the stakes were just too high. I wasn't willing to take a gamble with Alexis that I could easily lose. Not for anything, not even Elena.

For now I pushed those negative thoughts about how this might play out aside and closed my eyes, focusing on the comfort of her nearness and the soft sound of her breathing until I drifted off as well.

When I woke up, it was quarter past three and Elena was still out. I assumed she needed to get on her way back home about four like normal, and I also assumed she'd want to have a shower first. Reluctantly I realized that I'd better wake her.

She'd rolled over facing away from me at some point, and in my sleep I hadn't let her go. I was spooned up against her back, one arm draped over her waist, palm flat against her stomach and my nose nestled into the sweet scent of her hair.

I could think of several ways to wake Elena up and every last one of them made me harder than the last. Slowly, I began to trace light patterns on her abdomen. She responded with a low humming sound in her sleep, which encouraged me to continue. The soft skin of her shoulder beckoned for my lips, and as I dropped a gentle kiss there she made that little moan again, body shifting ever so slightly back toward mine.

Smiling to myself, I let my fingers wander higher, cupping her breast, feeling the weight of it against my palm. She was beautiful, perky and perfect, not too big and not too small, just exactly the size to fit in my hand.

As my fingertips circled a hardening nipple, she exhaled deeply and unfurled toward me, giving me access to lower my mouth and begin to give it the attention it deserved. My tongue flicked over the puckered tip and her eyes flew open.

"Damon!" she gasped, laughing softly. My gaze lifted to hers, and her mouth curved into a sleepy smile.

Then she glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and her face fell. "Oh my God! It's nearly three-thirty!" She smacked my arm lightly. "How could you have let me sleep for so long?" she asked, her voice choking up on the last couple words.

Immediately I raised my face up to hers, concerned by the distress in her tone. I reached over to push a strand of loose hair off her forehead and she pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes welling up.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stroking her cheek with my thumb.

"I slept away our afternoon together. We only had today and I wasted it." Sighing, she confessed, "I wanted more time with you." A single tear escaped and slid down her temple.

"It's not wasted time. We were together." I leaned over and kissed her as I wiped that errant tear away. "I loved waking up beside you. I loved that you were the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. And hey," I looked at the clock again and flashed her a seductive grin, "we still have thirty minutes or so."

That brought a small smile back. She ran her fingers into my hair, pulling my face to hers. After giving me a long, lingering kiss, she whispered, "I guess we both need a shower?"

That was all the invitation I needed. Throwing back the sheets, I picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. Setting her down on the countertop, I turned to start the hot water running in the shower. When I looked back to her, she had twisted around, examining her reflection as she stretched the hotel-provided shower cap over her hair.

She must have seen the surprised look on my face as she met my eyes in the large mirror. Shrugging, she said simply, "I can't very well go home with wet hair." I couldn't argue with that. And frankly, she looked cute as hell with that plastic polka-dotted cap over her head, a few strands of dark hair escaping here and there as she resolutely tried to cram them back underneath.

Her gaze left my face and dropped lower and I watched with amusement as her cheeks went pink and her mouth dropped open slightly. I couldn't help the smirk that curved my lips as she stared at me. Earlier she'd averted her eyes, which I'd thought was kind of adorable. I'd figured as we got more comfortable around each other her shyness would ease up, and it seemed I was right.

I reached out to take her hand and guide her into the shower. Grabbing the soap and unwrapping it, I began to lather it up in my hands. "You first," I told her. Before she could question what I meant, I spun her around and started to run the soap slowly along her spine, cresting it across her shoulder blades and up over the roundness of her shoulders. I heard her inhale deeply as I brought it down her ribcage and over her lower back, then around the soft curves of her perfect bottom. I continued slowly down the back of one leg, then the other.

"Now turn around," I whispered, straightening up again.

She obliged willingly. And let me just say, I had no intention of kissing her right then. The plan was to continue exploring and cleaning every inch of her body. But I looked into her eyes and the expression I saw staring back at me…I had no choice; I simply couldn't _not_ kiss her.

Winding her arms around my neck, she pulled my body against hers. Her tongue found its way into my mouth and the next thing I knew, I had her pressed up against the wet tiles. God, the things this woman could do to my self-control. It all went out the window when her soft skin was touching mine.

For the moment, I knew I had to stop. I had something specific in mind and I intended to see it through. Gathering all my fragile willpower, I dragged my mouth from hers and stepped back. She moaned in disapproval and reached for me, but I held her slightly away. "Uh uh uh," I teased. "Be patient. I'm not done yet."

I resumed my attentions to the front of her body, sliding the soap across her chest and down both arms, then over her tight belly. Lathering up my hands well, I put the soap bar back in its holder and ran the flat of my palms lightly over her nipples.

Elena inhaled sharply and I smiled at her reaction. I gently massaged each breast, then angled the spray to rinse them off. Bending down, I took one dark peak between my lips, suckling until I heard a soft mewling sound above. I moved to the other side, licking and gently nibbling at her.

The sounds that flew from her as my lips caressed her chest and my hands ran over her legs, then finally up to her wet center, sent a burning tightness from my belly straight down. I didn't think it was possible for me to be more aroused.

I straightened up, ready to take her pleasure to the next level. I carefully guided her backward and positioned her against the ledge in the back of the shower, then dropped to a kneeling position before her. She regarded me curiously, but didn't say a word. I just smiled and nudged her knees apart, lifting them to rest on my shoulders.

When my tongue touched her, she sucked back a sharp lungful of air. As I started to do my thing with it, the sounds emanating from her got louder, although more spaced out as I swear she was holding her breath as long as she could in-between. I began to stroke her with my fingers as well as my tongue and it wasn't long at all before her breathy gasps turned into one long moan, her thighs clenching tightly on either side of my head.

I smiled as I extracted myself from the tangle of her legs and stood up to take her in my arms. Her breathing was heavy and she clung to me for support, pressing her face into the curve of my throat as her fingers tightened in my hair.

I gave her some time to recover, but then I couldn't wait any longer. I had to kiss her again. Our kisses were soft and languid, filled with promises of lazy afternoons and gentle embraces. I loved how she kissed me. I think I got to know her – the real her – more and more each time. She was strong and confident one minute, seemingly shy and timid the next. Sometimes she took control; more often she seemed to prefer when I did. I didn't mind either way.

The more I kissed Elena Gilbert, the harder I fell for her. We were already treading on incredibly dangerous ground as it was, yet with every gasp, every fumbled touch, every exhalation of breath into each other's mouths, I knew I was falling further and further. We were in too deep already and neither one of us was the least interested in trying to swim for the surface any longer.

I pulled away and pressed my forehead to hers, staring into those intoxicating brown eyes. Against the damp, flushed skin of her cheek, I whispered, "Me, too," and she breathed the words right back to me. We were mirrors. We were echoes.

"Me, too."

"Me, too."

"Me, too."

* * *

**Elena**

When I got back into my car, I was smiling. I mean, I was sad our time had come to an end, but there was no stopping the grin that stretched across my face from ear to ear. It's funny how the mind works. It felt incredibly strange to be so damn happy in the face of all the awfulness I'd recently been through and knowing the guilt and pain that was sure to come later. But right at that moment? I was blissful. I was ecstatic. I was in love.

And he loved me, too.

He didn't say the words; neither of us did. But we might as well have. I knew exactly what he'd meant when he'd looked into my eyes, read the truth in my heart and told me, "Me, too."

The intense joy of reciprocated feelings, even if our situation was definitely messed up and probably hopeless, just filled my entire being right to the brim. I wanted to sing loudly. I wanted to shout from the rooftops. I wanted to tell everyone, even complete strangers, that I'd found exactly who I didn't even know I'd been looking for.

His name was Damon. And we were _in love_.

I couldn't stop thinking about our afternoon. After another mindblowing lovemaking session in the shower, we'd toweled off and slowly proceeded to get dressed in near complete silence.

He'd walked me to the door and told me he'd wait a while after I left before checking out. Then he'd pulled me into him one last time. I'd wrapped my arms tightly around his waist and pressed my cheek into the side of his neck and we'd just held each other for several long, long minutes, just breathing each other in, trying to memorize every last sensual thing about each other.

We'd kissed sweetly, full of tender emotion, and then I'd quietly slipped out the door. There were no words that needed saying. We'd both understood all too well.

You know how when you're all wrapped up emotionally in a certain situation, songs, television shows, movies, everything around you seems to reflect your inner turmoil? Well sure enough, the first song that came on my music shuffle in my car as I drove home was "Tempted" by Squeeze. I stopped for gas and when I went in to pay, the piped-in music in the small shop was playing that old Stevie Wonder song, "Part-Time Lover". As I gave the sullen teenager behind the counter my credit card, it morphed into the cheesy "Secret Lovers" by some awful band I didn't even remember the name of. Ugh. But the lyrics of that one hit home even more than all the others.

"_Secret lovers, yeah, that's what we are. Trying so hard to hide the way we feel._ W_e both belong to someone else, but we can't let go cause what we feel is oh, so real."_

It's truly a terrible song. I'd always cringed at it. But yeah, it pretty much summed up my life at the moment. I cursed its very existence as I walked back to my car, sure already that it would be stuck in my head the rest of the evening.

I didn't know what to do with myself once I got home. At one point I realized I was just staring into the fridge, the original intention to look for something to make for dinner completely forgotten. I closed the door and trotted up the stairs instead, pulling out my laptop just to look at the photos of Damon on Facebook. My lips still remembered the pressure of his, my body still remembered how it responded to his touch – hell, if I concentrated, I could imagine I could still feel him inside me.

The sound of the front door opening and closing threw an instant damper on my pleasant reminiscing. I sighed in frustration. Crap, now what was I supposed to do? Quickly closing the computer and putting it aside, I went into the bathroom and shut the door.

Bracing my hands on both sides of the sink, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Did I look any different? I sure as hell felt different. I examined my mouth, my cheeks, my throat, my chest – everywhere exposed that Damon's lips had touched, and there was very little skin he'd missed exploring. It all looked normal to the casual observer. Then I looked deeply into my own eyes and that's where I spotted the difference. They were no longer blank and empty, twin pools of quiet misery. They were sparkling, bright and happy. My eyes were alive again. That's where my change lay. Not just in my heart, but pouring out of my very being. I had finally begun to heal. Yes, it sounds cheesy, but that's how I felt as I examined myself. Like the love I'd discovered and the connection I'd formed was a balm to heal my damaged soul.

I was convinced Matt would surely spot the transformation if he looked closely enough at me. I needed to wash away all my happiness before I could face him. My frantic mind kept insisting that if I could just re-find my misery, the profound change I'd just experienced would become invisible.

So I sat on the tiles with my back against the door, squeezed my eyes closed and blocked out all thoughts of Damon. Instead, I focused on my dad. I thought about a specific moment, the day we'd cleaned out the attic together and the box of my old baby stuff that I'd found. I remembered how he'd just known that I didn't really want to have a baby with Matt and told me to stop trying to live up to the person everyone else expected me to be, and to just be myself. And he'd assured me he'd support me no matter what choices I made. Then I imagined telling Matt I was leaving him.

And that was all it took. In my mind's eye, I could already see the destroyed expression on my husband's face. A horrified lump promptly rose in my throat, my eyes welled up and the tears came. Swiping them away with my fingers, I stood up to go greet him. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed I no longer appeared happy in any way and therefore out of the ordinary.

It turned out my generated sadness was unnecessary. Matt didn't seem to suspect a thing. Apparently my guilt was _not_ actually written all over my face in huge red letters, as I'd worried it would be. Still, when he asked me how my day was and I had to lie to his face, my stomach cramped up in response. How was I supposed to fake normalcy, whatever that even was anymore, around this man who had known me for more than half my life? I didn't know how long I'd be able to keep up the pretense. I also knew sooner or later I'd have to sit down with him and have a serious talk about our future. My vote at the moment was for later. I dreaded that conversation more than words could express, even if delaying it made me an even worse wife than I already was, if that was even possible.

Instead, I pulled my usual brand of avoidance and called Dana, asking if we could hang out that night. She seemed surprised, and told me she'd been just about to call me, too.

We met at the Grill less than an hour after I hung up. As I slid into the booth across from her, I noted she looked stressed.

"You okay, Dana?" I asked her.

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

I waved my hand in dismissal. "My issues are all we ever seem to talk about anymore. Tonight is about you. Tell me why you have that sour look. Something happen with Ben?" Her entire face seemed to droop when I mentioned his name and I realized I'd hit the jackpot.

The server picked that moment to interrupt with our drinks. As she walked away, Dana concentrated silently on the label of her beer instead of meeting my gaze. Her fingers picked away at the edge of the foil.

"What is it? C'mon, you know you can tell me," I insisted. The truth was I wanted to focus my attention on someone else's concerns so I didn't have to think about my own. Not that I was happy about my best friend having problems, but I won't say there wasn't a part of me that didn't appreciate the distraction.

She bit her lip and lifted her eyes to mine. "I think…" She stopped and sighed. "'Lena, I think Ben might be cheating on me!" Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

My eyebrows shot straight up and I sucked in a surprised breath. Reaching over, I grasped one of her hands along the top of the table. "You're kidding! Shit, Dana. Why?"

"He's been acting really weird lately: staying at work late all the time, not spending nights at my place as often, not opening up to me hardly at all anymore. And there's this new girl in his department that he's become friends with. I swear she gives me the stink-eye every time I walk by her desk." She rolled her eyes and I knew any dislike was mutual.

I could feel my face heating up at her words as some of them hit a little too close to home. "So he's been working late and has a new friend. That doesn't mean anything," I tried to reassure her, although I wasn't sure how much I believed my own words. "Ben would never cheat on you."

"He talks about her all the time, Elena. I don't even think he realizes how much he's doing it. Carrie did this or Carrie said that, constantly. And he smiles like crazy when he says her name. I've had my suspicions for a little while, but now…now he barely seems to touch me anymore. He hasn't told me he loves me in sixteen days. Something is really, really wrong. I know it is." I could see her welling up further as she spoke.

A tight knot of guilt snarled in my stomach at the similarity to my own situation. Squeezing her fingers again, I asked, "Have you talked to him about any of this yet?"

She shook her head wildly, a few teardrops escaping the corners of her eyes as she did.

"Why not?" I pressed.

Staring down at our joined hands, her tears flowed down her cheeks, tracking sticky paths darkened with mascara. For a long time she didn't answer me. Finally she darted a glance up to meet my eyes. "I'm scared I'll find out I'm right," she whispered.

I got up and went around the table, nudged her aside so I could slip onto the seat beside her. Then I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a sideways squeeze, laying my head against her shoulder. "No matter what, whatever ends up happening, Dana, I'm here for you," I promised.

She hugged me back and patted her tears dry with the cocktail napkin. Then we both took big swigs of our drinks and changed the topic to Ric and Jenna's engagement. We couldn't resist speculating about what their big day would be like. In my mind's eye, I drooled over an image of Damon looking dashing in a black tux as Ric's best man. Hopefully, things would be easier for us by then. Hopefully, by the time the wedding rolled around, we'd be in a position to be together publically.

Dana and I chitchatted about easy things. She was either distracted enough or smart enough to not ask about my issues. And for the next hour or so it felt like things were nearly normal in my world again, which was exactly what I needed most.

* * *

Saturday, I spent nearly the entire afternoon at my mother's. The less time I was alone with Matt, the more comfortable I felt. Sunday, we went out to brunch with his mom and sister and her new boyfriend. Sunday evening I couldn't avoid it being just the two of us, but between making dinner, watching television and spending time online, the hours thankfully passed without any deep or meaningful conversation.

I forced myself to look at Matt, make eye contact with him, smile at him like I normally would. My stomach cramped up guiltily each time I did, but I did it anyway. All weekend I felt like a sham wife, a robot Elena, programmed to say the right things on cue. I had to force myself to swallow some of my dinner, because appetite was nearly non-existant. At night when I slipped into bed beside my husband, I felt dirty. Like I was betraying the man I loved. Which I was, in every sense of the idea. I was being disloyal to both loves, past and present, just by sleeping beside Matt like everything was still the same way it used to be, like I was still the same person I'd been before.

The entire weekend I'd been waiting for him to challenge me on something: my strangely not as unhappy as usual mood, my continued spending time away from him as much as possible, my lack of appointment to see the psychologist yet, anything. But he didn't. He seemed subdued a bit himself. He spent his time watching football or working on his lesson plans for the second half of the school year. To me, it really seemed like we were living nearly separate lives - more like roommates than spouses. I knew it should have felt odd and wrong, but it didn't. It was a relief, to me.

I wasn't dumb enough to think this could go on indefinitely, though. I knew the peace would end. This fragile and carefully enforced distance we were maintaining between us would break down at some point. It couldn't last forever. It wouldn't be fair to either of us if it did. As much as I dreaded the thought, I knew I was eventually going to have to break his heart in order to set him free.

Not just yet though. No matter how guilty I felt, I just wasn't ready. I was far too scared still, too emotionally fragile, to put either of us through that yet.

* * *

By Monday morning, I was back to being worried again. My nerves were jittery. I could not wait to see Damon, but I was terrified things would revert back to awkward between us, or worse, he'd treat me like just another co-worker and my fragile feelings would get bruised. Logically I understood we needed to act like casual friends, at best, around each other in public and nothing more, but my heart and my brain would surely be at odds on the matter if he acted aloof with me.

I was also scared I might discover he was consumed by guilt and remorse. If he regretted us, I didn't know if I'd be able to handle it. I hated that I'd become so vulnerable. Vulnerable was yet another aspect of the new Elena that felt foreign to me. I couldn't remember ever feeling that way before about a guy. But everything was different now; Damon had the power to break me utterly.

Turned out he wasn't in the office that day, so my fears weren't tested. The next day Alaric and I ended up chatting in his office for a bit. He shared that he and Jenna were planning a long engagement and that they'd decided to go the cheesy route and get married on Valentine's Day the next year. After teasing him about the giant pink heart-shaped pillow I was going to make for them for a gift, I detailed some of my own wedding planning stories, ending by recounting the untimely screw-ups that forced us to have to make our own last-minute table centerpieces. This had entailed collecting mismatched flower pots and whatever random wilted blooms were still available from the closest discount florist and Matt, Dana and our families trying to rapidly assemble twenty of them. Poorly. But those pathetic centerpieces were a topic of humorous conversation all night that we'd never forgot.

Alaric chuckled along with me. Then he commented, "You seem happier today. Lighter, somehow, than I've seen you in a long time. Good to see it."

I smiled back at him. "Thanks. Didn't realize it was so noticeable."

"You're trying to hide your good mood?" His eyes narrowed in confusion.

Exhaling softly, I replied, "No, not exactly."

"Can I ask what's made you so cheerful? Or who?" One of his eyebrows arched my way.

Flushing, I sighed, "Is it that obvious?" I trusted Ric completely but I still wasn't sure I should admit anything to him. No matter how much he liked me, he was still Damon's best friend. Unless? Was it possible Damon could have confided in him?

"Only to me, Elena, because I know you both pretty well. I talked to him early today. He didn't spell out anything, but he couldn't stop smiling, either."

Ric was far too smart for his own good sometimes, but I wasn't able to contain my own grin at his words. "Really?" I asked.

His voice dropped low. "I'm not gonna pretend I think whatever's going on between you two right now is a good idea. It's not. You both know it's not. And I don't wanna see either of you get hurt. But the fact remains that I care about you. And seeing you both so damn happy warms the cockles of my cold little heart." He winked at me.

I laughed nervously. "What do you know?" I asked in a low voice.

"Only what I can see with my own two eyes. And I'm a bit worried. You both really ought to deal with your own situations before you explore this stuff. You know that, right?"

Frowning, I whispered, "I know. I…we…" I sighed again. "You're right."

"Don't get me wrong, Elena. I want you to be happy. You deserve every happiness. Just please be careful. This could blow up in your face so easily. You could lose everything. And I don't want that for you." His face was the picture of seriousness now.

I stood up to go. "Thanks, Ric. I mean it. And I'll be really careful, I promise."

"See that you do. And if you need me for anything, anytime of day, you know where to reach me."

I walked back to my desk with the emotional load I was carrying a bit lighter, just for knowing that my secret was shared with another, who wanted only the best for both of us and wasn't judging.

* * *

That afternoon I called the number on the card Dr. Fleming had given me to finally make that appointment with a grief counselor. I'd come to the conclusion that getting stuff off my chest to a professional psychologist might be a good idea after all, especially with the current emotional path I was headed down. Luckily I was able to get an appointment scheduled for after work on Friday.

About ten minutes before four, my desk phone rang. Damon's cell phone number popped up on the little screen and my lips twitched in a secret smile as I scrambled to answer it.

"Hey," I greeted him, my voice warm, but also a little nervous.

"Hey," he replied. "How was your weekend?"

I pressed my lips together. There were still ears around me that could overhear my end of the conversation. "Fine. Nothing worth note. You? She come back?"

I heard him exhale. "Yeah. It was okay. No major conflicts."

"Glad to hear it."

"I was just…in a really good mood. Made it easier for me, I think," he admitted.

"I know what you mean. I was…I'm happy, too. Ric commented on it, even."

"Did he?" I detected a soft chuckle. "Figures."

Damon paused for a second or two, then, in a lower, more serious tone, "You're happy. That's good to know. I wasn't sure how it would be…after…for you. Everything's okay, then?"

I suddenly realized why he'd called. He'd needed to hear my voice as much as I'd craved to hear his. "Much better now," I confessed softly. My world felt right again.

"Me, too."

"Me, too," I breathed back. "Me, too."

Just saying those words to each other again sent an enormous rush of pleasure through me. I became instantly giddy. I'd never done any sort of drugs before, but I imagined this was what it must feel like to get high, and why people became addicted to the euphoria. All I wanted at that moment was him. All other priorities and responsibilities slipped out of my head. Right then, if he'd asked me to run off with him and leave my life completely behind, I would have agreed in a heartbeat, without question.

But it seemed a few shards of logic still remained somewhere deep down inside me. Even through my Damon-induced bliss, I recognized how dangerous to my well-being this entire situation was.

* * *

**A/N** _Special thanks to goldnox for betaing Damon's pov at the beginning. If you're not already, you should all go read her fics. She is seriously one of the best DE writers on here. Thank you to all of you who have reviewed, favourited and recced out this fic. I'm sorry this update is late. Both my muse and my state of mind have been off kilter lately. Hope you still like it. Please review!_


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

* * *

**Elena**

I awakened Friday morning feeling confused and annoyed after a very strange dream. In it, I'd gone to the Grill to meet Ric and Jenna, and as I walked in I'd noticed the place was nearly deserted. There was no sign of my friends. Then I'd spotted Matt turned away from me, sitting at the bar at the back of the room. A petite redhead was perched on the barstool beside him. As I'd watched, she'd rubbed her fingers over his knee in an extremely affectionate manner. I'd started to walk back to them to make my presence known, but suddenly, to my extreme shock, he'd turned to her and kissed her. I mean, _really_ kissed her, not like a friendly peck on the cheek, but full-on tongue action. Neither of them had noticed me. I'd frozen in horror as I'd watched them making out. Fury had encompassed me. I'd wanted to punch that girl right off her barstool, and I assure you I have never been a violent person. I'd been just about to march right over there and demand they tell me what the hell was going on, when I'd woken up.

My heart was pounding. Pressing the back of my head down into my pillow, I glared up at the dusty white bedroom ceiling with rage boiling inside me. I took a few deep breaths to try to tamper it down. I was well aware my reaction to that dream made me a gigantic hypocrite, but I couldn't help it; even with everything else going on, I still thought of Matt as mine. He'd been mine for nearly as long as I could remember. He'd married me. He loved me. And, messed up as it was, I still felt kind of possessive about him. I couldn't even fathom seeing him with anyone else - the idea was a foreign concept. I knew I'd be upset for real if I ever found out Matt felt for another girl the way I felt for Damon. And yes, I was fully aware of how selfish I was being. He deserved to be happy, and being with someone else was the only way he was ever going to be. But we'd been in each other's lives for so long now. We were a part of each other and I couldn't simply switch off my feelings for him.

Sighing, I dragged myself out of bed. My first appointment with the grief counselor was after work and I was already anxious about that. I didn't need to add any additional stress from dreaming about things that weren't even real. Yet.

Other than one brief work-related e-mail, I didn't have any communication with Damon all day. I was pretty sure he wasn't even in the office. I hadn't seen him face to face in nearly an entire week and, frankly, it was killing me. I didn't really know what our current relationship status was, if you could even call it that, but I hoped he was missing me as much as I missed him.

The psychologist's office was just across the street and down a bit from Fell & Sons in Mystic Falls. As had become my habit since my father passed away, I averted my eyes as I drove past the low red brick building and took a right into the parking lot of the medical centre. Even still, a sharp tug of sadness pulled at me as the memories begged to be allowed to the forefront of my consciousness. I resolutely shoved them away, determined that I was not going to cry. Not right now. Not if I could help it.

Debbie Westwood met me just inside the door to her waiting room. She was in her mid to late forties, with graying auburn hair, dark eyes and a warm smile. She ushered me into her office, which was decorated in soft, cool shades of blues, greens and aquas. I took a seat in a well-padded arm chair opposite her desk. There was no couch for me to lie down on I noticed, assuming those stereotypes were just from television shows.

Since it was our first appointment, I chose to limit my conversation with her to talking about my father, and how acutely I still felt his loss. I decided I wasn't ready to get into the other major reason I was so stressed out yet, at least not until I developed a better comfort level with this woman and decided I could feel at ease enough with her to admit my deepest, darkest secret.

As I talked to her, I tried to tamper down all thoughts of Damon. It was harder than expected. A week prior I'd been happily in his arms. Now I sat in this overstuffed chair reminiscing about my dad and trying to ignore all the other complicated feelings swirling around inside me.

My first impression was that she seemed kind and sympathetic. She was a soft-spoken woman, who asked me simple, uncomplicated questions about my relationship with both my parents, and made notes as I talked. When she brought up my marriage, I became less forthcoming. I'm pretty sure she picked up on that and made a mental note of it, but she chose not to press me further. At least not then.

After we'd discussed my panic attacks, she told me she'd recommend my doctor give me a prescription for anti-depressants. I wasn't too sure how I felt about that idea, but I promised her I'd make an appointment to discuss it with Dr. Fleming.

After I returned to my car, I felt a bit better. I had another meeting with Debbie scheduled for the following Friday, so I figured I'd have an entire week to decide if I was ready to talk to her about my marriage or my situation with Damon. As for the recommendation that I consider taking medication, I was hesitant. Perhaps she was right. If it would help with these intense mood swings and bouts of panic, it might be worth it. I'd have to look into it more.

Matt's truck was already there when I pulled into the driveway. The light shining from the kitchen window pierced the twilight and reflected brightly off the snow dusting our small lawn. I could see him inside, pacing in front of the counter on his cell phone. As I stepped into the front hall and dropped my purse to the floor, he came to the kitchen doorway and greeted me with a cheerful smile.

"How did it go?" he asked.

My guard shot up instantly. "Fine," I replied nonchalantly, attempting to not sound wary and likely failing. "I'm seeing her again next week."

"Glad to hear it." He came over and gave me a quick kiss hello. I tried not to flinch or tense up, but I'm pretty sure I failed at those as well.

Matt pulled back and frowned slightly, brows drawn in tight, but didn't mention my reaction. Instead his grin reappeared. "I made reservations at that Mexican place you like out on highway three. We need to leave in about fifteen minutes. That okay?"

With a surprised shrug, I responded, "Um, sure." I glanced down at my outfit and saw no need to change. Casa Marisol was certainly fancier than your average Taco Bell, but my work clothes would be fine. I headed upstairs to splash some water on my face and reapply my lipstick, wondering vaguely why my husband wanted to go out to someplace nicer than the Grill for dinner. Did he want to have a talk with me about something serious? I shuddered. The thought of that made me instantly anxious.

I was overflowing with trepidation as we got into my car and drove to the restaurant. Matt kept glancing over at me as he babbled on about his day. My replies were sparse and lackluster. He eventually grew silent.

When we were ushered to our table in a secluded corner, I noticed it had a vase of roses in the middle. Two flickering candles sent dancing shadows along the yellow-painted wall behind. Matt pulled my chair out for me as I sat down. He took his place opposite and stared into my eyes as the hostess walked away.

"Tonight's a big night. I wanted to make sure we did something special," he said, with a small smile.

I narrowed my eyes for a split second, before making my face passive again. What was he talking about? A big night for what? I glanced around us. The other occupied tables also had candles, but not a single one of them had roses. I looked back at the flowers before me. They were pink roses, which, when I was seventeen, had been my favorite. To be specific, there were five pink roses. Five.

Just like the ones I'd clutched in my bouquet on our wedding day. Which had been five years ago. My eyes widened. Crap! Crap! Crap! If there was some kind of award for the worst wife on the planet, I definitely deserved it.

Face flooded with hot embarrassment, I quickly pasted on what I hoped was a sweet smile. "Yes, it is," I replied. "And the flowers are beautiful, Matt. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I promptly signaled the waiter over and ordered a bottle of wine. Once he returned with it and filled our glasses, I raised mine to Matt in a toast.

"Happy Anniversary," I told him, trying to keep my tone easy.

"To five fabulous years with the love of my life," he replied, clinking his glass against mine. "And to at least fifty more." This was not a man who had any doubts about me, or our relationship. He was confident we'd be together for the rest of our lives.

I felt my gut clench and throat tighten. I knew there wouldn't be fifty more. Hell, there probably wouldn't even be one more. And I felt disgusted with myself. How was I going to get through this night? How was I going to play the role of happy wife celebrating a major milestone anniversary with her husband? I didn't even think I could eat dinner, let alone act cheerful all night. And later, once we got home…

My belly lurched again at the thought. There was no way I could bring myself to make love to Matt. Not anymore. Everything about the idea felt incredibly wrong. I wouldn't sleep with both of them. It was bad enough doing what I was doing, but to add that into the equation? No. Now that I understood how I felt about Damon, and he, me, I simply couldn't cheat on him with my own husband. The very idea made me nauseated. It just wasn't going to happen.

I'm not proud to admit it, but I lied a whole lot more that night. I drank a few glasses of wine, ordered something spicy, and by the time we got back to the house I was complaining of stomach pains. That part wasn't totally untrue – I did have cramps, had them for hours by then, but they were from guilt and shame, not from the food. I bolted upstairs to the bathroom and crammed a finger down my throat, forcing everything I'd consumed back out. Fifteen minutes later, pasty and drenched in sweat, I weakly told Matt my insides hadn't agreed with the meal. Needless to say, he didn't even try to kiss me goodnight.

I felt like utter crap both mentally and physically as I wrapped the blankets around me in the bed we'd shared for the past eight years. There was no doubt in my mind that I was an awful human being. I'd lied to Matt so much lately it had become nearly second nature. I'd been unfaithful to him in every way. And now I'd completely forgotten our important five-year anniversary. I knew we badly needed to talk about some very serious issues, but it wasn't a conversation I was ready for in any way. Soon, I promised myself as I laid there beside him, I'd break things to him very soon.

As I fell into an uneasy sleep, I wondered if my timing for anything important in my life would ever be right.

* * *

**Damon**

Andie came home the first weekend, as promised. After her parting comments to me the previous Sunday, I made a deliberate choice to leave her and Alexis alone as much as I could, spending my time in my office, or with James, who was visiting again as he had more appointments scheduled for the upcoming week. I moved some of my things into the back spare bedroom upstairs and slept there for the two nights she was back. We mostly tiptoed around each other, only speaking politely and succinctly when necessary.

When Andie had walked in the front door and caught my gaze over Alexis' shoulder as they'd happily embraced, a massive stab of guilt had pierced me. Looking right into the face of the woman I'd once promised to love for the rest of my life in front of God and all our loved ones – I couldn't help it; I'd felt a wave of shame and regret for my recent choices. At first, she'd seemed cautiously pleased to see me. A small smile had curved the corners of her lips and she'd raised a tentative brow in my direction. I don't know what it was in me that she'd seen staring back at her, but her eyes had quickly narrowed and gone cold. She'd looked back down at Alexis and started to tell her about her week in New York, and my heart hardened again. There'd been no mistaking the detachment I'd seen roll down over her face like a bulletproof blind. I'd decided then and there that keeping my distance from her as much as possible for the next three months was exactly how this was gonna play out. If she didn't like it, it was her own fucking fault.

After five years of marriage, sleeping in different rooms and barely speaking to each other felt awkward as hell. I'm sure she'd say I was the one making things more difficult than they needed to be – and shit, maybe I was – but this was the easiest way I could come up with to deal with it. Or not deal with it, as the case might be. James had to be aware things between us were tenser than ever, but he didn't try to offer any unsolicited advice that weekend, for which I was grateful.

I wasn't in the office much the following week, and when I was my time was swamped with meetings and client deadlines. Other than a quick phone conversation right at four o'clock on the Tuesday, when I wanted to make sure Elena wasn't harboring regrets, that her guilt hadn't overwhelmed her too much over the weekend, but most of all because I just couldn't stand not hearing her voice for another second longer, I hadn't been in contact with her.

The second weekend, wonder of wonders, Andie came home again. I mumbled "two for two" to her as she walked past me in the kitchen. She didn't deign to reply. James had returned to Buffalo, so there was no one to provide a buffer between us but Alexis. Again, I mostly left them to spend quality mommy-daughter time. I had a few appointments with clients on Saturday, worked in my home office Saturday evening and went over to Stefan's Sunday afternoon, returning only when I knew Andie needed to leave to catch her flight back. As with the previous weekend, she didn't mention my aloof attitude once, but contrary to that weekend, I felt far fewer pangs of guilt about Elena.

It wasn't that I hated my wife – I definitely didn't. There was even a part of me that still loved her. I just didn't think that we were repairable any longer. And since I wasn't willing to take the risk of losing my daughter by initiating ending things with her on a permanent basis, it was better for me to just stay out of her way.

When Andie was gone I was the best possible dad to Alexis that I could be, and when she was around, I felt the right thing was to leave the two of them to hang out together as much as possible. Any time I had a free moment to myself, my thoughts were consumed by all the negative in my life. Sometimes I just shoved that crap aside and let myself focus on the recently created positive memories with someone who allowed me an escape from my stress, someone who appreciated me, someone who simply made me happy.

* * *

It'd been another insane day in the office, and the hours had seemed to whip by at break-neck speed. One fire to put out after another had my head spinning and my temper short. Before I knew it, it was nearly four o'clock. I hadn't had a chance to touch base with Elena in days, let alone have any face to face time. Not being able to see her left an ache inside me. I missed her smile. I missed her everything.

As I was looking into an inquiry about the figures on a quote she'd worked on, I decided instead of e-mailing or calling, I'd kill two birds as it were and stretch my legs with a stroll over to the Accounting department.

I knocked on the metal along the edge of the wall of Elena's cubicle, and she looked up quickly from her monitor, startled. The second her luscious brown eyes locked with my own, a massive smile lit up her face. I'm sure I reflected it right back at her.

"Hey," she greeted me, her voice quiet and clearly happy. My gaze dropped to her lips, which were full and soft-looking, and I had a nearly uncontrollable urge to just bend down and kiss her right then and there. Parts of me previously relaxed shot to full attention at the mere thought.

"Hey," I returned, blinking in an attempt to shake off the lust that had rushed over me. Inhaling deeply, I continued in as business-like a tone as I could manage, "I wanted to ask you if you could confirm the parameters you used on your quote for McMillan Dairy. They think we might've omitted a consideration or two."

She frowned briefly. "I don't have that file on my desk anymore. I'll have to go pull it from the file room."

I swept an arm in front of me. "Lead the way."

One of her brows arched in my direction as I began to follow her. I just grinned. To be truthful, right at that moment I was hoping like hell there would be no one else in that file room.

We walked past Katherine's office on the way. I noticed she glanced over briefly, but her phone rang right at that moment. _Saved by the bell_, I thought wryly. A few steps further a brunette girl who couldn't have been much older than twenty told Elena goodnight as she passed us in the short hallway that led to the rear of the department.

"'Night, April," I heard Elena reply.

There was a desk back there where the Accounting administrative assistant worked, which I assumed belonged to the young woman who'd just left for the day. Behind it were large windows cheering the area with late afternoon sun, and to the left was a plain white wall with a single door in it. Elena pulled open a desk drawer and retrieved a key on a red lanyard. As she unlocked the door, she explained to me that after April left each day the file room was supposed to be kept locked. I followed her inside, shutting it firmly behind us.

She went around behind of a wall of files, squatting to search a long row of M's for McMillan Dairy. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun on the back of her head, exposing the slender nape of her neck to me. A few long tendrils escaped and curled down, dancing over her shoulders. I couldn't help it; my fingers moved as if they had a mind of their own, landing lightly on her lower back and tracing a gentle path up the soft cotton covering her spine to the skin on the curve of her neck.

The second I touched her she gasped softly, and it instantly made me want to touch her more, elicit more of those sexy little sounds from her. When my fingers grazed her bare skin, she stood up abruptly, turning toward me. Her eyes were shining. Her face was flushed. She had only time to whisper my name before I tugged her against me and covered his lips with mine.

She only kissed me back for a delicious few seconds before bracing the palms of her hands firmly against my chest and pushing me away.

"We can't. Not here," she whispered, looking nervous. And sexy. God, she looked sexy as hell. The fact that we hadn't seen each other face to face since she walked out of that hotel room, and how turned on we both obviously were already, did not escape either of our notice. Her gaze dropped down my body for a moment before reconnecting with my own.

"Door's locked and you've got the key," I told her, waggling my eyebrows suggestively. "No one's coming in to interrupt us."

Sucking in a sharp breath, Elena considered the situation we were in. Her eyes flicked between the door and my mouth. Her forehead creased with indecision. Finally she sighed. "Katherine's still in her office and it's not that far away. If we got caught, Damon…"

I frowned. She was right, of course. With a regretful groan I took a step back from her. "I know." I squeezed her fingers in mine. "You go back to your desk. I'll come out a few minutes later and head straight to my office. You can just e-mail me the information I need."

She nodded. Standing on tiptoes, she pressed her soft lips to mine once more. "Sorry," she murmured sadly. "I want to be with you, too. I've missed you."

I reached out to grab her arm as she started for the door with the file clutched to her chest. "Elena, I need…need to see you, to touch you. Soon." Her huge brown eyes grew wide as she stared at me.

Then the smile I loved so much reappeared, eradicating the worry completely. "You could meet me in a parking lot somewhere on the south side of town in about twenty minutes. We wouldn't have much time but I could spare a few minutes before I'd have to hit the highway, I think."

Now there was my girl, using her head to come up with a solution. "Perfect. I'll call your cell phone when I'm leaving the office and tell you where."

With that she disappeared. I leaned back against the shelves of files behind me, trying to reassemble my jumbled thoughts. Being around Elena tended to throw my logical thinking for a loop these days. And kissing her…well, kissing her seemed to just turn my mind right off. I got lost in her every single time.

I took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on recalling the things I absolutely needed to do before I could escape for the day. Then I thought about meeting Elena shortly thereafter and, with a devilish grin, pushed off the wall to get a move on.

* * *

**Elena**

As I made my way back to my desk, I couldn't help smiling to myself. My formerly kind of blah mood had soared the second I saw Damon's face. And when he touched me…well let's just say that old adage about sparks flying pretty much described my reaction to him perfectly.

My heart was pounding with the excitement of knowing I'd see him soon, and have some more, albeit short, alone time with him. I quickly scanned through the McMillan Dairy file, double-checking all my data and calculations and making sure I hadn't overlooked anything vital. Finding no errors, I sent Damon an e-mail confirming my quote was accurate unless they had made changes to their advertising requirements.

Then I powered down my computer, said goodnight to Ric and headed out. The temperature had dropped and the wind was swirling gusts of snow and debris between the rows of vehicles. I pulled the collar of my coat snugly against my neck as I strode across the pavement to my car.

Just as I slid into my seat and pulled the door shut against the cold, I heard my phone buzz inside my bag.

"Hey," I answered, knowing who it was even before I looked down at the screen.

"Meet me in the parking lot of the Food Lion on Ward's Road?"

"I'm leaving right now," I assured him.

"See you in ten." Damon paused for a moment and at first I thought he'd disconnected. Then I heard him mutter, "Not soon enough."

I grinned to myself. "Never is," I replied honestly, and we both hung up.

The Food Lion was a large supermarket I passed every day on my way back and forth to work, located right off highway twenty-nine, also known as Ward's Road. I'd even stopped there a couple of times when I'd needed to pick up some last minute item for dinner. The surrounding parking lot was huge and, as I pulled into it, fortunately nearly empty. A scattering of cars, some of which surely belonged to employees, were parked along the left side. The rest were clustered near the main entrance, waiting for their shivering, grocery bag-laden owners to return.

It was a chilly late January afternoon, dim and dull, soon to graduate to full-fledged dark. The wind rose and fell in gusts, driving whirling snow devils across the corners of the cracked asphalt. The sky overhead was steely, with darker clouds building low on the horizon. As I scanned them, I wondered if they brought with them an approaching snow storm from the west, and if so, would I have time to make it home before it hit?

As I pulled into a space along the edge to the right of the building, I noted there was only one other vehicle nearby: a lone car shrouded in a thick layer of snow. Obviously it hadn't been moved in weeks, possibly longer. I doubted its driver would show up during the short time I planned to be there.

Praying Damon would arrive soon, I turned my engine off but left the power on for the radio. I hoped I wouldn't have to sit alone in a rapidly cooling car for long. Inspired, I slipped the Joe Purdy CD he'd made me last summer into the player while I waited.

The opening notes of the first song, "Secret", began to play.

"_I am your secret, babe_

_Watch me unfold_

_Dancing in these streets so late_

_Nobody knows_

_Nobody knows us."_

My heart clenched. He was my secret all right and nobody knew us, not what we really were to each other. Only he and I carried that weight between us. It was at the same time both lighter than anything I'd ever felt before but yet heavier than either of us could've hoped to carry alone.

I began to sing along softly to myself.

"_And I don't remember falling asleep_

_Must have been holding on tight_

_And all I can think of and all I can dream_

_Is dancing with you in red lights."_

I jumped when I heard a light tap on the passenger side window. Looking over, I was relieved to see Damon's face peering in at me. Somehow I'd gotten so wrapped up in the music I hadn't noticed him pull up alongside my car. He laughed as he opened the door and slid in beside me.

"Did I scare you?" he teased, pulling off his black leather gloves. The corners of his eyes creased as he grinned at me, and his cheeks were already red from the cold.

I smiled back and nodded. "I guess I really got into the song," I admitted, a bit embarrassed.

"It's a great song." He paused as he thought more about it, then added, "Appropriate, too." With that, he reached over and slid a hand around the back of my neck, tugging me toward him with a soft, "C'mere." I leaned into him willingly and pressed my cool lips against his warm ones.

It didn't take long for my chilled body to heat up with Damon's hands and mouth burning my skin everywhere he touched me. His palms first cradled my cheeks, then my neck, then one hand found its way inside my jacket and around the bare skin of my waist below my shirt. I kissed him fervently, wishing desperately that we were alone in a warm and private room inside of partially exposed in my ever-cooling Honda.

I dragged my mouth from his to get some much-needed air and his lips made their way up my jaw to my ear. Sucking in a sharp gasp, I shivered as his hot breath tickled the sensitive skin right below my earlobe.

"I can't believe we're making out in a car!" I told him with a small laugh, as he began to kiss his way down my neck, pulling aside the collar of my jacket for better access. "I feel like a teenager trying not to get caught by my dad with a boy."

Damon shifted his face level with mine. "Did that happen often?" he asked me, his eyes twinkling. "Getting caught making out with boys in cars?"

Giggling, I replied, "Not often!"

"But sometimes?" he pressed, studying me with an amused expression. "Were you a bad girl when you were a teen, Elena?"

"No! I was a good girl. I'm _still_ a good girl!"

One dark eyebrow shot up skeptically. "Oh, really?" A smirk curved his lips. "You sure about that?"

And just like that, all lightness and mirth drained out of me. I sighed heavily and pulled away, staring down at my hands. "No. I'm not. I'm a liar and a cheat. I've been so caught up in my own issues lately I even forgot my wedding anniversary last week. I had to fake it and lie through my teeth, which has become such a regular thing lately that it barely fazes me. The lies seem to spill out of my mouth one on top of another." I could hear the quiver in my voice. "And I know what I have to do, but I haven't been able to find the guts to do it yet."

"What's that?" he asked me quietly, his tone full of understanding and compassion. His large hands found mine and he squeezed my cold fingers in his.

"Tell him that we're over. Break his heart into a million pieces. I loathe the idea of hurting him, but I can't continue this charade for much longer. It's not fair to either of us. To _any_ of us. Yet I keep putting that conversation off, because I know it's gonna suck." I paused and drew a deep breath. "God, Damon, I've turned into such a terrible person. My dad wouldn't even recognize who I've become since he died." Tears filled my eyes.

He took a hold of my shoulders with both hands and forced me to look at him. "Yes, he would. You told me once that he promised you he'd always stand by you and support your decisions, right?"

I nodded, swiping away a few errant tears from my cheeks.

"Elena, don't be so hard on yourself. I know nothing about this is easy for you. Believe me; it's not easy for me, either. And if you want to call it quits, all you've gotta do is say so. The last thing I wanna do is to make your life more difficult than it already is."

"I know. And you don't. I'm happy when I'm with you, Damon. I swear it might be the only time I _am_ happy these days. I don't want to lose you." I attempted a small smile, but I knew it was a wobbly one.

"Good," he said firmly, and he pulled me into his chest, wrapping both arms around me and holding me to him. He pressed his cheek against mine and spoke low into my ear. "I know how crazy all this is, but you're…" He took a deep breath as he searched for the right words, his fingers stroking down my hair. "My life is full to the brim with worry and stress and responsibility. You're my calm, my easy...you're my escape. I need you."

"I need you, too," I whispered, and he squeezed me tighter.

Tiny snow pellets began to pepper my windshield. We both knew we needed to get back to our regularly scheduled lives. This small time-out we shared had to come to an end.

He kissed me again, slow and deliberate and full of all the emotions we still hadn't voiced to each other.

When he pulled back to go, he looked me in the eyes one last time. "When you have a bad moment, and you feel lost and alone, don't forget," he told me, partially quoting a lyric from one of the songs on the CD I'd made for him so many months ago. I couldn't help but return his smile as he tugged the door handle and pushed open the door, letting the icy air swirl inside.

"Forget what?" I asked, but I knew.

Damon reached over and stroked a finger down my cheek and along my jaw before stepping out of the car. "Me, too."

A sense of tranquility spread over me as I shifted into reverse and made my way back out to the highway. The hard snow drove against the glass and my wipers whipped it away nearly as fast as it made contact. The roads weren't slick yet, but I knew it wouldn't be long.

The last of the fading light ebbed away as I sped down the road toward home, or at least what used to be my home. I was about ten minutes into my drive when I realized I was still smiling widely.

* * *

**A/N** _Thank you so much for reading. We are actually headed somewhere, it's just a long road to get there. I hope you haven't all lost interest. These are flawed characters that sometimes make bad decisions, just like in real life. Hope you can forgive them for their faults and want to stay on this journey with them. The next chapter will bring some conflict. Pretty please review?  
_


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

* * *

**Elena**

After that, we began getting together for ten or fifteen minutes at least once a week in random parking lots not far off our regular paths. It was usually right after work, but occasionally, when we had no other options, we'd meet up over lunch. He'd climb into my car or I'd go to his, and we'd talk and touch and kiss. We never had sex; I think we both felt it would be kind of demeaning to what we were to each other to make love in our cars. This was no sneaky high school romance, oh no, this was something so much more than we could even put a name to. I cherished those stolen moments each week when we were able to just be with each other, talk openly with each other, and touch each other.

It seemed like we were always touching, from the moment the car door shut behind us. Even when we just chatted about our day, our hands would be connected, or his fingers would be stroking my arm, or mine would be resting lightly on his neck. Skin against skin, always. When he kissed me, his hands inevitably found their way underneath my top, tracing blazing trails over my back and down my sides, and sometimes, in moments of passion, over my chest as well. We wanted each other far more than the quarter of an hour we allowed gave us time for, but we resisted. Hotel rooms were mentioned in needy and regretful murmurs, but neither of us acted on booking another one. By unspoken agreement, I think we both realized the massive risk of what we were doing and didn't feel right returning things to that level again, at least not then. Yet we just couldn't stay away from one another completely. So we met like that, once a week, and during the short periods of time we were together we hung on like we never wanted to let go.

* * *

Monday, February third was one of those glaringly bright, yet bitterly cold winter days. I remember so clearly because it was the first day of my Week From Hell. It all started with an e-mail from Rose, requesting a quote for SleepAway Hotels for a service we did not break out pricing for on its own, only in conjunction with other services. In my reply, I politely explained that I couldn't quote it independently, but would be happy to price it as part of a package if that's what the client wanted.

About an hour later, I got another e-mail about it, this time directly from Damon. He asked me, rather bluntly, to cost the service out on its own. Again, I clarified as professionally as possible why we simply couldn't do it. He responded within a few minutes saying that he'd had this service priced by itself in the past, and he needed it for this client. Not a _please_ to be found. I insisted it was not an exception I was able to make.

When he came back yet again, this time with glaring annoyance dripping from every word in his much more demanding message, my own anger sparked. A sickening feeling spread through my gut as I realized this might end up being a bigger issue than I'd first anticipated. With chagrin I recalled the stories Bonnie had told me about how Damon reacted when he didn't get his own way. He was well known to be pushy, insist things be done the way he wanted, then go over people's heads for it if he was still met with resistance.

I was confident I was giving Rose and Damon the right information, but still, I printed off the e-mail chain and, as Ric wasn't in his office, went in to speak with Katherine. I explained the situation to her, what the client/Damon was asking for, what my response had been and the messages I'd since received telling me I needed to break it out for him. She looked over the request and agreed that my answer was correct. When I returned to my desk, I wrote a firmly worded e-mail back to him, with Katherine copied in, explaining for a third time exactly why we couldn't price it as the client had requested. I deliberately referred to it as the client's request and not Damon's request, so it wouldn't sound like a personal denial.

To say the least, I was not impressed. The tone of his messages had not only implied I didn't know what I was talking about, but also hinted that he thought I was just deliberately being difficult. After all we'd been through together over the past seven months and especially recently, it was the latter that hurt the most.

An hour or so later, Ric returned from the off-site meeting he'd been at and as soon as I could, I popped into his office to ask his opinion on the matter. Like Katherine, he agreed that my response had been right, but he also admitted that an exception or two had been made for one of Damon's groups in the past. When I heard that, I closed my eyes and sighed in frustration. I knew as I walked back to my desk just how it would play out. As usual around here, Damon was going to get his own way, and this time I would look like an idiot for it.

And I wasn't wrong.

Katherine showed up at my cubicle about thirty minutes later with the SleepAway Hotels case file in her hands. She dropped it on the desk in front of me, told me in an irritated voice that she'd been on the phone with a pissed off Damon for the past twenty minutes, and that I was to price the service out as the client had originally requested. If I had any questions about how to do that, I should go ask Alaric. Then she strode off in annoyance, as if somehow this headache had all been my fault.

Within less than a minute of her leaving, yet another e-mail from Damon came in, basically telling me the exact same thing. It was curt and short, with no pleasantries or thank yous, and it was obvious he was no more impressed with the situation than I was, although for different reasons.

Rolling my eyes in frustration, I did as I was told; I calculated the figures and e-mailed them back to him, copying in both Rose and Katherine. Although I was fuming, I assumed that would be the end of it.

And it was, for that day. Briefly I wondered if I'd still get a call or text from him to arrange a clandestine meet-up for that week. To my disappointment but not surprise, I did not.

The following day he e-mailed me first thing in the morning asking me to come over to discuss the SleepAway pricing. I wrote back asking him what it was he still needed, but he simply replied, "Bring the file with you."

I had sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing this particular discussion probably wasn't going to be anything like how we normally interacted, but I went anyway. I'd spent too much time already reading and re-reading the e-mails he'd sent me the previous day, and each reading only made me more upset.

So when I walked into his office and dropped into one of his guest chairs to face him, I'm pretty sure I wore a stony expression. He flashed me a tight grin, but it wasn't his usual 'happy to see me' look either.

"I thought we should talk about what happened yesterday," he began, attempting eye contact. I didn't hold his gaze for long, breaking it to open the file and glance down at the print-outs of the figures I'd eventually sent him.

"Was there a problem with my pricing?" I asked, keeping my tone businesslike.

His brows drew together. "No," he replied.

"Then why am I here?" I closed the file and started to rise.

Damon frowned. "Why are you upset?" His eyes shifted to the open office door and I knew he was thinking about closing it, which was the last thing I wanted at the moment.

I sighed and sat back down. "I had very good reason for denying your request. And your e-mails made it sound like you assumed I was just deliberately being difficult, like I was being unnecessarily stubborn and didn't want to help you or the client. That's why I'm upset."

He scrutinized me, his expression unreadable. Finally he asked, "Weren't you?"

Anger erupted inside me at his confirmation of my suspicions. "No!" I shot back. "I would never do that! And I would hope, after all this time, that you'd know me well enough to know I wouldn't react like that. I always, always, make every attempt to get the pricing our clients are waiting for back to you guys as soon as humanly possible. When I have _ever_ given you push back on a request for no reason? _Ever_?" I stopped to take a breath and realized how much louder my voice had become.

"You haven't before," he admitted.

"But you thought this time I was just being a bitch for no reason, didn't you? Look, I'm fully aware you've had problems with other employees in my department in the past. But I'm not them, Damon. I'm me. And you _know_ me!"

He still just stared at me, absentmindedly tapped his pen against the edge of his desk. When he didn't reply after a while, I said, in a much lower tone, "I'm angry and hurt you would even think I'd treat you that way."

Reaching over to close the file that lay open on his desk, he sighed quietly. "Hmm. Maybe we'd better just put this one to rest." Looking back up at me with a much more relaxed expression, he casually asked, "So, how was your weekend?"

My mouth fell open in shock. _How was my weekend?_ Was he freaking kidding me? "Um…it was fine." We regarded each other silently for a moment. I was trying to tamper down my fury and a thick lump had formed in my throat, promising imminent tears if I didn't get a better control over my rising temper.

"I can't do this right now," I muttered, rising to my feet, "I've got to get back to my desk."

His eyes narrowed again, but he just replied, "O…kay." He did not add "talk to you later" or anything else to imply we might interact more anytime soon.

I stalked back to my cubicle fuming, and hoping no one else would dare say anything to me to piss me off further. If they did, I was pretty sure I'd end up saying something I'd regret.

Sleep was a long time coming that night. I stared at the wall, unable to stop my mind from going over and over the e-mails we'd exchanged and the words we'd spoken.

On Wednesday, I checked the file for the new quote requests assigned to me and worked my way through them, as I always did every morning. Less than five minutes after finishing up and sending out a quote for one of Damon's potential new clients, I got an e-mail from Rose asking us to delete that request because Damon had decided to decline it. I was a bit irritated, since I had just spent thirty minutes of my time working on something he should have reviewed prior to sending over to Accounting.

When I was speaking to Katherine later, I happened to mention that I thought it would be a great idea of the Account Managers would review their quote requests before their assistants sent them over to us, as I was in the habit of doing mine first thing in the morning and it got frustrating when I found out I'd wasted my time with one, since it had happened more than once. As I might have expected, she was annoyed to find out that was happening and that her accountants were sometimes not making good use of their valuable time. When she asked which quote was declined that morning so she could speak to Marketing about changing the process, I didn't hesitate to tell her. I figured improving our time management was a good thing for everyone involved, so I went back to work on something else and promptly forgot about it.

When I returned to my desk after lunch, there was an e-mail from Damon waiting for me. To summarize, he told me that if I had a problem with how something was handled between myself and his team, he would have appreciated it if I'd come directly to him, as Alaric apparently always did, instead of complaining to Katherine and getting her involved.

Suddenly all the anger sitting dormant since Monday resurged through me. I forced myself to close it and not reply right away, fully aware of how unhappy I was that he was obviously still upset with me. I'd been hoping it was over and we could begin to move past it, but unfortunately it seemed I was wrong. I worked on other stuff for a couple of hours until I felt I could respond in a calm and professional manner.

Eventually I pulled up his message again and responded that I hadn't gone directly to Katherine about it, we'd just happened to be chatting and it had come up. I told him exactly what had happened with the quote and Rose's e-mail to decline after I'd already finished, and that I wasn't thrilled that it had been a complete waste of my time. I debated my last line for a moment or two, then typed that it seemed to me like he was still upset with me from Monday's issues. Without giving myself time to change my mind, I hit Send.

He replied fairly quickly, assuring me that there was no problem from his end, that he and Rose had been nothing but professional and that any 'upset' had come from my department. His tone read to me as accusatory and dismissive, and my back got up even more. My fingers actually trembled against my keyboard with the anger I was trying to hold inside me. Mustering some difficult restraint, I didn't answer, as I knew it would only escalate our conflict. When I went home for the day I was still seething. I could focus on little but this stupid conflict with Damon.

That night was yet another night of tossing and turning. I'd been withdrawn and sullen all evening and Matt noticed. He asked me when my appointment was with my doctor to discuss Debbie Westwood's recommendation of anti-depressants. I still felt wary about taking drugs that would mess with my emotions, but I told him I was seeing Dr. Fleming next week. He seemed relieved. I couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, he hoped the anti-depressants would change about me.

The following day, Thursday, I ended up discussing the current Damon situation with Alaric, who was sympathetic but had no answers for me. Ric assumed other outside issues must be stressing Damon and advised me to give him some time, then go try to talk things over.

I buried myself in work to an attempt to distract from how unhappy and annoyed I felt, but it was difficult. Things not being right with Damon completely threw off my ability to focus for very long. Later, around three o'clock, I found myself re-reading all the messages we'd sent back and forth to each other the previous three days. I mentally went over our discussion in his office on Tuesday. I thought about the fact that I hadn't received a single personal text, phone call or kind word from him the entire week. And I wondered if we were in the midst of self-destructing in a permanent way. The idea scared the hell out of me. No matter how angry at him I might be, I was still madly in love with him.

On impulse, I opened a fresh e-mail and sent him a message.

_Do you have any idea how much damage to our friendship this week's communications have done?_

It was nearly time to go home, so I finished up what I was working on and began to pack things in for the day. Just before I closed down my e-mail program, a reply from him showed up.

_Please come see me to discuss._

I sighed. He wanted to discuss it. He'd even said please. I contemplated about going over there, but I fast realized I was still too angry to have a rational conversation with him. If I spoke to him face to face right now, I worried we'd both say things we'd regret and make this divide between us even wider. So I made a decision to put it off. I told myself I'd reply the next day, and possibly speak with him face to face after that.

And I went home.

* * *

Friday, the final day in that Week From Hell, was dim and snowy. My drive took longer than usual as the highway was slick and traffic had slowed to a crawl. The winds gusting snow horizontally across the road made visibility difficult. By the time I finally got to my desk, there was a pressure headache stewing behind my eyes and I had to spend my first hour calculating out two rush requests that had been awaiting my attention.

Just before ten o'clock an e-mail arrived from Damon:

_Thought I would have heard from you by now to talk this over. Guess I was wrong._

My eyes widened in surprise. Now he was disappointed in me again? Because I hadn't jumped and immediately come running to him when he asked? My now-all-too-familiar anger engulfed me and my heart began to pound as the adrenaline kicked in. The next few hours saw a succession of e-mails back and forth to each other, each one increasingly more inflammatory than the last. Every time I saw a message from him pop up in my in-box my blood pressure shot up before I even read the content.

Somewhere around two-thirty in the afternoon I simply stopped responding, which was something I really should have done hours earlier. I was fully aware we were using company e-mail that was probably traceable if HR ever wanted to, and our thinly veiled business phrasing had become more and more obviously personal with each subsequent communication.

I'd made up my mind that I was going to head straight out at four o'clock, same as the day before, and let Damon simmer. To be completely honest, what I really hoped was that he'd reach out to me on a personal level. I wanted him to call, or text, or even show up at my desk and apologize. I wished he'd tell me that he wouldn't be able to go home and relax this weekend until we were right again.

A sudden understanding washed over me. I had no idea what was really driving his mood this week, or why things between us had fallen apart so quickly. I was holding onto my temper and pride, and wanting him to man up and come to me, when really I was just being stubborn. It was me I knew for sure wouldn't be able to relax, or probably even sleep, if I didn't fix this before I left for the weekend.

So when I shut down and got ready to leave, instead of heading straight to the parking lot, I made a detour through the Marketing department. My nerves were alight; I had no idea what kind of a reaction I would get when I got to him. In fact, I didn't even know if he was still in his office until I approached and heard his voice from inside as he spoke on the phone.

I hesitated outside his doorway, not wanting to interrupt him as he talked to who I presumed was a client. When I caught a few words, I quickly realized that this was not a business call. His tone was clearly irritated. As I listened, his volume rose in annoyance. Finally, he said, "Fine! Have it your way, like you always do! I'll just deal with the fall out for you, like_ I_ always do." Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a phone being slammed back into its cradle.

Just as I was about to turn and walk away to give him a few minutes to cool down before I approached, bringing with me presumably more stress, he swiveled in his chair and caught me staring at him. His eyes bulged in near comical surprise. I could have sworn I detected the beginnings of a smile, but then he shut it back down.

"Elena," he greeted me in stony voice.

"Damon," I returned, equally cool.

I waited to see if he'd invite me in to sit down. Staring resolutely at me, he said nothing. After a few moments I stepped into his office and closed the door behind me before taking a seat.

At first we just looked at each other silently. He was obviously stressed: his eyes were bloodshot and tired-looking, and his hair was even messier than usual, if that was possible. I could just picture him raking his fingers through it over and over with every new e-mail from me he'd read. His black dress shirt was untucked, and I noticed empty paper coffee cups littered his normally neat desk. Damon was definitely not himself.

With a soft sigh, he broke our stalemate. "So what can I do for you?"

"I didn't want to go home for the weekend with things so messed up between us." I confessed.

He frowned. "I didn't want to go home last night without talking to you either, but you apparently had no problem with that."

"I was angry."

"So was I."

"Why?" I wanted to know the real reason, whether it was really all because of me, or if there were outside issues and he'd been redirecting his frustrations.

"The first time or the second? Monday, it was because you wouldn't help me until I had to go over your head to force you to. The Elena I knew always did everything in her power to help a client, and you flat out refused!"

"I already explained over and over exactly why I-"

He kept talking over me. "Then on Wednesday I'm blindsided by a bitchy e-mail from Katherine demanding we review all our requests for pricing in advance as we're wasting her accountant's precious time. She stated your complaint to her as proof. Which you _should_ have come straight to me about if you had a problem with it. I thought that was how we worked – that we trusted each other enough to always go to each other to fix things first, before dragging Katherine or anyone else into it!"

"And I told you I never meant to-"

"I thought we had each other's backs, Elena, but apparently I was wrong." He leaned back in his chair and fixed me with challenging stare. It seemed like he was daring me to defend myself.

"Are you done?" I asked him softly. "Or is there anything else you'd like to tell me off for?"

"No, I'm not done. You know what pissed me off the most? What disappointed me more than anything else?" His eyes flashed with hurt and anger.

I shook my head.

"That you refused to even come talk things out with me! That you just…just left! Like it didn't even matter to you!" He stood up and turned toward the window, hands braced on the edge of his desk, refusing to look at me.

I swallowed back the lump that rose in my throat as I began to understand. Darting a glance at the closed office door, I got to my feet and went over to him. I reached out to tentatively touch his forearm as I assured him in a low voice, "It mattered to me. It mattered a lot. I hated that we were fighting. But every single e-mail you sent me just made my blood pressure shoot up higher."

Damon turned to meet my eyes again and I saw the corner of his lips twitch. "I had the exact same reaction to yours."

"I know myself well enough to know that if I'd come talk to you earlier, we probably would've ended up saying things we couldn't come back from. I needed some cooling off time, and I suspect you did, too." I squeezed his wrist. "Seems we're both pretty stubborn, huh?"

A small smile finally surfaced. Lifting one hand up, he gently ran the tops of his knuckles down my cheek before replying, "Yet another thing we have in common."

Without even thinking about it, I reached for him and pulled him into a hug. His arms wound around my waist and held my body tight against his.

Remembering where we were, I reluctantly pulled away and went back to my chair. Though I was immensely relieved, I wasn't done with this conversation quite yet. "So, what else is going on? There's obviously more crap happening with you this week than just our issues."

Damon sighed as he sat back down. Then he told me he'd found out Monday morning that two of his more lucrative clients were taking their business to another advertising agency as soon as their contracts were up. He felt guilty that he'd been so distracted lately by all the issues in his personal life and confessed that his mind hadn't been able to focus on work as much as it should have been lately.

"Was it your fault they decided to leave?" I asked bluntly.

He considered my question. "Not directly, no, but I should've-"

"Stop, Damon. It sucks, I know, but you can't take responsibility for that. Clients come and clients go. It happens in every agency. And if it wasn't because of something you did, then you can't blame yourself." I saw him nod and it encouraged me. "What else?"

His brows shot up.

"I know there's more. What is it? Something with James? Stefan? Or did Andie tell you guys she wasn't coming home this weekend and Alexis is upset?"

Eye widening in surprise, he admitted, "The last one. Just got off the phone with her telling me it's definite. Lex doesn't even know yet."

Sighing, I told him, "That sucks, too. It really does. No matter how much it doesn't surprise you, I know you were hoping for her sake this wouldn't happen."

"Exactly. But it's probably best she get used to it. It won't be the last time Andie'll blow us off."

I paused as I realized something. "You felt abandoned, by her, which you're kind of used to, and by me, which you're not. That's why you were so mad at me."

He just looked at me, lips pressed into a tight line, but didn't reply.

"Damon, I didn't abandon you. I had to work through my anger before I came to see you, but I'm still…you've still got me. I'm not going anywhere." As I reassured him, I gave him the first genuine smile I'd probably had all week.

He seemed to visibly relax at my words. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation elsewhere?" he asked quietly, a grin of his own finally surfacing. Parts of me I hadn't even realized were tense eased at the sight of it. And, just like that, our Week From Hell was over.

Glancing down at my watch, I agreed that I could spare a few more minutes. "Food Lion, Wooley's Auto Body or Feed 'N Fuel?" I asked teasingly.

That was how, at quarter to five on a Friday, I ended up in the front seat of his Camaro parked behind the former Feed 'N Fuel on Ward's Road, encased snugly in Damon's warm arms.

* * *

**Damon**

Sometimes I do stupid things. Getting my fucking panties all in a knot over Elena's e-mails the past week was one of them. All the shit that had gone down around me the last few days had left me feeling like all my life-lines had been cut and I'd been set adrift. My whole life it had been difficult for me to really trust others, and the few times I had, they'd inevitably let me down. That week it felt like I'd been fooled into deluding myself about Elena, too, like now that I'd finally let her in, I'd found out she was just like all the others. Somewhere deep down a part of me knew I wasn't being fair passing judgment on her so quickly, but then another e-mail from her would show up in my in-box and I'd just get pissed off all over again.

After our talk in my office at the end of the day on Friday, we met for a few minutes behind a derelict gas station before she headed home, as we'd become in the habit of doing as often as we could. All the tension from being at odds with each other all week fell away as she climbed into my car. We collided in a tangle of lips and limbs.

The release of all those pent-up emotions overwhelmed me as I kissed her. My hands had minds of their own; they roamed frantically over her soft skin, under her sweater, down the back of her dress pants, caressing every curve, but never stopping for long in any one place. It was like I needed to touch every part of her to make sure she was real, and really there with me. I was hard as hell and all I could think about was being inside her. If I'd had my way, we would have had makeup sex on the backseat of my car right there in that gloomy, deserted parking lot.

Unfortunately Elena's common sense knocked some reason into me, for which I was both frustrated and grateful. She couldn't stay and I knew I had to pick up Alexis from the sitter in a few minutes.

Before she opened the car door, she asked, "We're okay now, right?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hadn't we just been lip-locked a few seconds ago? How could she still be uncertain? "Completely. You even need to ask?"

"I just wanted to make sure. This week had me really freaked out. I hate when things are off between us."

"I know. I hate it, too. And I'm sorry for overreacting. I got…" I stopped, unsure if I wanted to elaborate or not.

"What Damon? You got what?"

Sighed softly, I admitted, "I got scared."

She reached to squeeze my large fingers in her small ones. "Scared of what? Me changing my mind? Deciding everyone else is right about you?"

I blew out a small breath. "That. And of my feelings for you. They scare the shit outta me," I confessed.

She snuggled up to me again, threading her hand beneath my leather jacket to pull me close. "I totally get that. But you don't have to worry. I won't change my mind. Even when we're fighting, being with you makes me…thrive."

"Me, too," I told her honestly, and kissed her again.

As I watched Elena get back into her own car, wave at me through her window and drive away, it hit me. When we'd finally talked everything out earlier, she'd analyzed the situation and been able to see straight through my bullshit to what the real issue was. Even when we were off the rails and butting heads with each other, she managed to figure out the truth - truth that I hadn't even realized until she stated it out loud. In that moment, I realized how completely head over fucking heels in love with this woman I was. There was no longer any point even trying to deny it.

My heart started to race and I let my head fall back against the headrest. I gasped as I fought to get enough air into my suddenly too-tight lungs. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to focus on evening out my labored breathing. _Breathe in. Breathe out. So you don't fucking pass out, _I chanted internally. I'd had intermittent panic attacks off and on since my mother died, and I knew how to deal with them. In a few more minutes, this one, too, thankfully eased up its constriction.

I'd been lying to myself when I'd thought that I had some semblance of control over my emotions for her. There was no goddamn control. I was lost. And, because of my situation, chances were I was also completely fucked.

* * *

**A/N** _Hope you guys liked that installment. Thanks so much to those of you who still take a few moments to leave me a review. I would love to hear from you, especially those that don't review or rarely do. I so want to know your thoughts! Things will be heating up again in a few more chapters. Hope you all stick around for the ride. Thank you again!_

_Follow me on tumblr and twitter: **elvishgrrl**_


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

* * *

**Elena**

The night was clear, frigid and bright, with a massive bone-white moon hanging low over the horizon. It seemed to stare accusingly at me as Matt and I drove home from his mom's place. We'd been visiting for Sunday dinner; his sister Vickie and her boyfriend had been there as well. Matt's mother, for possibly the first time ever, conspicuously did _not_ ask us when we were going to give her grandchildren. It made me suspect he might have said something to her about me not wanting to be a mom, which, in turn, made me wonder if she thought I was a failure as a wife to her son. I was already fully aware I was a complete failure in that, without a doubt, but the thought that anyone else might see me that way still bothered me.

I'd had another appointment with Debbie Westwood the day before. This visit I'd opened up to her about my marriage, telling her that I didn't see myself having kids with Matt. She'd gotten me to admit that I loved him more like a friend than a lover these days. She'd then asked me if I'd considered leaving him. I'd squirmed in my chair before acknowledging that the thought had crossed my mind. When she wondered what was stopping me, I'd confessed that not only did I hate the idea of hurting him, but I also wasn't yet prepared to deal with the intense pain I knew taking that step would yield, as I was still getting over my father's death. I wasn't totally sure if she bought it or not, but at least she didn't ask me if there was someone else, though I was on pins and needles just waiting for that particular question. Though I hadn't talked to her about Damon yet, I was starting to trust the woman. I decided I'd give serious thought to revealing my most guarded secret next session.

Gazing up at that huge round moon, I wondered if Damon might be looking at the same scene from wherever he was right now.

Matt's voice dragged me from my thoughts. "So, how have you been feeling lately? Has talking to that woman been helping at all?" He shot a glance over at me as he drove.

I pondered how to answer that for a moment. "Yes…at least I think so. It's probably too soon to say."

"I'm glad." He was quiet for a while. Then, rather abruptly, he asked, "Does she do marriage counseling?"

Surprised, I sucked in a breath. She did, actually. I didn't know whether that was something I'd even consider though. Once I talked to her about Damon and she knew the full truth, I didn't think I'd be able to sit through marriage counseling with her. I wasn't sure it was the right step for me, but I did think Matt could use someone of his own to talk to these days. Besides Dana, that is, as I presumed he'd been discussing things with her when I wasn't around. Not that either of them had said anything to me about it, but I just had a gut feeling. I wondered if she'd told him she thought Ben was cheating on her. Then I couldn't help but question if he suspected I might be doing the same to him. Suddenly the idea of Dana and Matt confiding in each other made me nervous, as did the thought of going to couples counseling.

"Elena?" Matt's voice interrupted my musings and I realized I hadn't answered him. "You tuned out again," he stated flatly.

"Sorry. Right, um, yes I think she does that, too. Why?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "Really? You have no clue why I might ask that?"

Okay, I was getting seriously uncomfortable with the way this conversation was headed. Trying to figure out an appropriate response, I stared out the window into the night, watching the darkened houses slip past. We were nearly at our street.

"So you're not even gonna answer me?" he asked, his voice growing louder along with his agitation. He was obviously frustrated with me, but not only did I not want to talk about this, I also had no idea what to even say.

"I'm _sorry_!" I burst out. "I _know_ I've been a sucky wife to you since my dad died! I know it. I _know_ you're not happy with me! But I already told you that I needed more time. What else do you want me to say?"

Matt twisted the wheel sharply and as we careened around the corner my shoulder slammed against the inside of the door. I cried out in surprise.

He didn't say a word until he'd lurched his truck to a sudden stop in our driveway. "_What I want_ is some sign from you that you actually want to fix our marriage!" he told me angrily, swiveling his body to face mine.

I rubbed my sore arm and stared at him. Pressing my lips together, my throat tightened. "You think it's broken?" I asked softly, guilt and fear churning my guts to mush.

His tone softened. "I sure as hell know _something's_ not right. And so do you. God, even Dana can tell that much. You're depressed, I know, but there's more to it than that, Elena. Things have been off since before Grayson passed away. Please don't try to deny it."

I looked down at my fingers twisting in my lap and said nothing.

"Elena?" I heard another sigh. "We used to always tell each other everything. Why won't you tell me what's really going on?" Matt's voice had taken on a pleading note.

The tears I'd been fighting back began to slip down my cheeks, each one chasing the trail of the last. Pressing the top of my fist against my mouth, I leaned my forehead into the cold glass of the window. And still I didn't reply.

"Your silence says it all." He leapt out of the truck and slammed his door shut with a crash, jolting the entire vehicle and me within it. I watched him stand there on the driveway with his back to me, head down, shoulders heaving, for several long seconds. Then, instead of going inside, he headed for the sidewalk, disappearing into the dark.

I cried harder. My nose ran. My mouth fell open to gasp shallow breaths into my too-tight lungs. My throat got so sore I could barely swallow. And still the tears gushed. Bringing my knees up, I wrapped my arms around myself, curling into a ball on the seat.

I don't know how long I sat there, rocking gently back and forth, the ticking of the cooling engine the only sound beyond my labored inhalations. When it finally seemed at long last that there was nothing left in me, I stumbled out into the cold and went into my dark, empty house.

Sometime later I heard the truck's engine start up again as Matt returned to drive off to who knew where. He didn't come home that night. I wrapped myself up in the blanket on the couch downstairs and, shockingly, I did manage some sleep, but not much. Nightmares about our next confrontation continually woke me, causing my overactive mind to play out every possible scenario, each one worse than the last.

Did he have his own suspicions about my faithfulness? I needed to find out, so I could prepare myself. I decided I'd better to talk to Dana and try to discover what Matt really thought. And if he was only worried about my pulling away from him, then I had to figure out if I would consider attending marriage counseling with him. That would mean lying to not only Matt, but to Debbie Westwood as well. No, I didn't think I could do that. I decided I'd suggest he schedule his own sessions to talk about his feelings privately, and then if he wanted to discuss stuff with me afterward, he could. I truly didn't want Matt to be so unhappy; he didn't deserve any of this.

Of course my other option was just telling him straight out that our marriage was over and facing the fallout.

More than anything else right at the moment, I missed my dad and the smart advice he always gave me. Yes, he'd be disappointed in me. No, he wouldn't approve of my recent choices. But he would love and support me no matter what, even though I'd be letting him down. He'd know the right thing to say to get me moving again, to get me back on the track I needed to be on.

No matter how much I tried to tell myself the words I suspected he'd say to me if he could, I still remained paralyzed. Whatever choice I made, someone would get hurt. I never meant for any of this to happen, and I loathed the thought of wounding Matt or anyone else.

I felt like a massive failure.

* * *

Monday after work I went straight to the nearest pharmacy and filled the prescription for citalopram, also known as Celexa, that Dr. Fleming had given me. It had been sitting folded in my purse for nearly two weeks already waiting for me to decide if I really wanted to take that step or not.

The accompanying list of side effects made me nervous, but I had come to the conclusion the previous night that it might be for the best if I at least gave it a try. I'd been feeling extra volatile lately. Last week I'd been fighting with Damon, the previous night with Matt - it seemed obvious I needed help dealing with this funk I was in, not to mention the panic attacks. Maybe the Celexa would take the edge off.

Around eight o'clock that night, I nervously took my first tiny brownish-orange twenty milligram tablet. By nine I felt drowsy and somewhat out of it. Matt knew I'd started the medication and he seemed pleased that I was finally making some sort of effort to improve my situation. I went to bed early, and for the first time in I had no idea how long I fell into a dreamless and uninterrupted sleep.

Tuesday I woke up with a bit of dry mouth, but otherwise felt better first thing in the morning than I had in months. If this was what taking Celexa was going to be like, with solid, restful sleeping at night, I was all for it.

The rest of the week went by without a hitch. I fell asleep early every evening and slept like a woman without a care in the world. I rarely even got up to pee in the night, which, for me, was nearly a miracle. Every morning I awakened needing a big drink of water, and sometimes between taking my little oval pill and going to sleep I felt kind of spaced out, but otherwise the side effects were minimal. Matt and I seemed to be back on a fairly even keel, and he'd apologized for letting his temper get the best of him the previous Sunday. I knew he hoped the drugs would help me, and therefore help mend things between us.

* * *

Friday was Valentine's Day, and I had no idea what that even meant to me anymore. Did I celebrate the day people traditionally spend with their love with the husband who I was planning to leave in the not-too-distant future, or with the boyfriend who was married to someone else? Neither seemed to make sense and frankly I was tempted to just call in sick that day and hide under the covers to avoid both of them.

I didn't, though.

I got up at my usual time, and when I came downstairs I found breakfast already made and plated for me. A vase of pretty pink roses adorned the middle of our kitchen table. I thanked Matt and gave him a grateful peck on the cheek before digging in. Guilt crept over me, but I did my best to conceal it. He was too good to me, and I didn't deserve any of this. All I'd gotten for him was a greeting card.

When I got to the office, I couldn't help but be curious to find out whether Damon would acknowledge Valentine's Day to me or not. I resolutely promised myself I wouldn't get upset if he made no mention of it. He owed me nothing whatsoever on this day, nor I, him.

At first it didn't seem like he had, and though I couldn't help be a tiny bit disappointed, I just brushed it off and dug into my first quote of the day. About thirty minutes later, I pulled open one of my desk drawers to retrieve a lip balm and found tucked inside a box of Sweethearts candy hearts. Again there was no card or Post-It or anything else to indicate who it was from, but I had no doubt in my mind who'd left this sweet surprise for me.

I opened the package and tapped out a small pale pink heart into my palm. In dark pink capital letters across the front was the message 'LOVE YOU'.

Smiling to myself, I wondered if he did.

* * *

On Saturday I met Dana for drinks after dinner and tried my best to suss out what she and Matt had discussed about me. I didn't get very far though. From what I did get, it didn't seem like either of them suspected me of cheating, just of pulling away in depression. But before Dana could disclose much more, she broke down into tears. I spent the rest of our time together comforting her. It turned out she and Ben had gotten into a long talk just before she'd come to meet me, and they'd decided their relationship had run its course. Needless to say, she was distraught and I felt like a crappy friend for not noticing her distressed state of mind right from when I first met up with her.

After two beers, a whole pack of tissues and more hugs than I can count, she began to calm down. By the time we were pulling on our coats to head home, she admitted she knew it was for the best. She laughed ruefully and said she'd probably end up meeting her Mr. Right packing groceries at the local Shop 'n Save. I wondered out loud if maybe the right man for her was someone who was already right in front of her eyes, she just wasn't seeing him clearly yet.

I felt sad for her loss, but also impressed that she was being so grown up about the split. They hadn't been together all that long, but I knew she loved him, and that wasn't just something you could just turn off.

During my entire drive home I kept wondering how Matt would react when I finally told him we were over, and if he'd have someone's shoulders to cry on like Dana had mine earlier. As I pulled into our driveway, it suddenly occurred to me that those shoulders might very possibly end up being Dana's.

I wasn't real sure how I felt about that.

* * *

The following week I was having lunch with Bonnie and Caroline in the cafeteria when I was blindsided by some startling news. It was just us girls that day, so Caroline was gossiping even more freely than she normally would.

As I chewed on my sandwich, she glanced over at me and lowered her voice. "So you guys know how Damon's wife is working in New York until spring, right?"

Bonnie and I both nodded. I tensed, wondering where she was going with that opening. She didn't leave me hanging for long.

"Stefan told me this morning they're actually separated. Apparently Andie told Damon before she left that he could consider it a trial separation until her contract was up in April." Caroline shook her head and rolled her eyes simultaneously. "No wonder he's been more of a dick than usual lately."

My mouth fell open in shock as I stared at her.

Bonnie frowned. "That explains a few things," she mused. "Still, must suck for him."

Caroline looked hard at me. "Elena, you seem surprised. He didn't tell you?"

I pressed my lips tightly together before answering, "I had no idea."

"Well maybe he doesn't want anyone to know. Still, I'd thought he might have said something to you."

"We haven't had much time to talk lately." I wanted to add, _and if he had told me, I wouldn't have shared it with everyone anyway_, but I didn't. Shrugging, I tried to look slightly sympathetic, but mostly unaffected by this new information.

Inside, my brain was whirling. This wasn't just more office gossip, or sad news about a co-worker's personal life; this was a big deal. Why hadn't he told me? I would've thought I'd be the first person he'd want to share that with. But, apparently not. Instead, he'd confided in Stefan, who'd disclosed it to Caroline, who'd told…well, probably everyone by now. Which kind of sucked for Damon if he'd meant to keep it private. If he'd known he was separated before our afternoon together at the Sheraton, you'd think he would have wanted to tell me that important piece of news. So my big question was: why hadn't he?

Pushing my chair back abruptly, I mumbled some weak excuse for leaving. When I got to the hallway outside the cafeteria, I stopped abruptly. Turning right would take me toward the Marketing department, and possibly Damon, if he was in his office, and I could ask him about it myself. Turning left was the most direct way back to my desk. What did I want to do? He'd kept it from me for a reason. I didn't know what that reason was, but I knew there had to be one.

With a sigh I headed back to my own area. I needed some time to think this over before I talked to him.

By the end of the day, I decided I wasn't going to mention to Damon what I'd heard (although I did think he deserved to be made aware that everyone else knew, but he'd just have to find that out from someone who was not me.) If he'd wanted me to know he was separated, he would have told me - simple as that. Still, I hoped to see him, as we hadn't been able to find any time to meet up the week before. I wanted to tell him about my fight with Matt, and about the anti-depressants, and, frankly, I just really needed some Damon-time.

I texted him a single word: "soon?" He called me back about a minute later.

"Great mind thinks alike," he chuckled. "Can you spare a few minutes after work today?"

After assuring him I could, we arranged to meet in the Food Lion parking lot again.

Twenty minutes later, I was sitting on Damon's lap in my car, his arms wrapped snugly around me, telling him all about Matt's big blow up at me and how I'd reacted. He listened sympathetically, lightly rubbing my back as I talked. I couldn't help but think of how his situation differed from my own. When I once again confessed that I knew I needed to end things with Matt, that I wasn't being fair to him by keeping him in the dark, I gave Damon the perfect opening to tell me the truth about the state of his own marriage. He didn't take it.

Realizing he wasn't going to, I pressed ahead. When I admitted I'd started taking anti-depressants the very next day, he seemed surprised. He told me when he was a teen he'd been on them for a while, but he'd hated feeling like his emotions were dampened and after a few months he'd quit. It crossed my mind that maybe he was worried my feelings for him would be lessened with the effects of the Celexa. So far, they were not, not even a little bit, and I doubted they ever could be. I made a mental note to prove it to him.

"I'm sorry you had such a rough week last week and I wasn't there to ease your stress," he told me, his fingers still running gently over my skin.

My heart clenched. Gazing through fluttering lashes at him, I whispered, "I missed you." .

He kissed me softly, assuring me without words how much he'd missed me, too. When he pulled back for air, he leaned his forehead against mine, looking deep into my eyes. I was sure I saw love in those eyes, but if that was true, why didn't he confide in me about Andie's request for a trial separation? He knew I intended to tell Matt we were over. Didn't Damon see a future with me? Doubts I'd been trying to suppress all day began to overwhelm me.

Before I could lean away or even say a word, his eyes lit up and he broke into a wide grin. "Elena, what would you say to escaping with me for a weekend?"

My eyebrows shot up. "You're kidding?"

"I'm dead serious. Remember when we talked about going to Richmond together all those months ago, but it never ended up happening?"

I nodded curiously.

"Let's pick a weekend and you can say you're going to visit your friend, and we'll go. Overnight on a Friday, home by Saturday dinner. I'll make sure Andie's actually coming back. She's used to me not being around much on her weekends home; she won't question a thing. I'll take you out for a night on the town. I know an awesome little restaurant downtown. We'll have a blast! You game?" With every sentence he grew more and more excited by the idea.

His enthusiasm was contagious. Mirroring his grin, I replied. "That could actually work! And, God, how I could use a break from my life!"

"I know you could. We both could. And I think we deserve some time just us. To recharge." Damon's smile lit up my whole car.

"You just want me all to yourself in a hotel room for twenty-four hours!" I teased, running my fingers up his chest and over his shoulder to tangle in the thick hair at the nape of his neck.

"Damn right," he murmured, re-capturing my lips and showing me just how much he wanted exactly that, and for a while I forget all about the secret he still hadn't shared with me.

* * *

**Damon**

Friday, February twenty-first was my daughter's fourth birthday. I'd texted Andie earlier in the week to make sure she'd be home that weekend, and after she confirmed I'd made reservations at Alessandro's for a birthday dinner out on Saturday night. Andie's parents, Giuseppe, Stefan and Katherine were going to join us. Since they were unable to make it down, James and Miriam had sent a parcel full of gifts. I knew James would be here the weekend after and he'd make it up to Alexis for missing her birthday, but I still wished he could have been there as moral support for me as I played the role of Dad at a Happy Family Event.

When I got into my office on Friday, there were two brightly-wrapped presents waiting for me. One dominated the middle of my desk. It was labeled "To Alexis, Love Auntie Rose." A second, smaller, flat one was sitting on my chair. A post-it note on the top simply read "Happy Birthday Alexis." No signature, but I recognized Elena's handwriting. From the feel of it, she'd been thoughtful enough to get my daughter a book for her birthday. I wasn't sure who I'd tell Alexis had given it to her, but I figured maybe I'd just let her assume it was from me for now. If, by some miracle, things managed to work out for us in the figure, we could tell her who the book was really a present from later.

I had a two o'clock meeting I couldn't get out of, but as soon as it was over, I left the office to pick Alexis up from the sitter's early. On the way there, I stopped and got a bunch of Disney Princess balloons. When my daughter heard my voice and came running to the door, she skidded to a halt with a look of amazement and glee the moment she saw the balloons.

"Happy Birthday, Princess," I told her, kneeling down and pulling her into my arms. She spared me not even a glance, her huge blues eyes focused solely on the multicolored bouquet clutched in my right hand.

Scooping her up, I carried her back to the house. She immediately ran into the living room, took a look around and instructed me exactly where she wanted her birthday balloons displayed. After we both arranged them to her satisfaction, I pulled one of the gifts from the kitchen counter and handed it to her.

Rose had chosen a pretty blue dress and matching pair of sparkly ballet slippers, which Alexis, ever the mini-fashionista like her mother, instantly adored. Right away she stripped off her sweater and jeans to try them on. Pulling out my phone, I snapped some shots of her twirling and posing for me. I started to e-mail them to Rose, copying in Andie as I knew she'd get a smile out her daughter's fashion model poses. After a moment's hesitation, I blind copied Elena in as well.

Alexis stopped dancing and looked curiously up at the counter. "Is that one for me, too?" she asked, nearly bursting with curiosity.

I handed her the package from Elena, and she tore off the wrapping without hesitation. As I expected, inside were two books: one about an impetuous little pig, called "Olivia Forms a Band" and the other the Dr. Seuss classic "Oh, The Places You'll Go!" She paged through them, looking at the brightly colored pictures, and I promised her I'd read them to her before bed.

Then I took her hand and, with a wide smile, let her into our attached garage. There, in the middle of the concrete floor with a huge pink ribbon tied around it, stood her very own big-girl bicycle. She squealed with delight the moment she saw it.

"As soon as all the snow melts, I'll teach you how to ride it," I promised her.

"Really? Without training wheels?" she asked me doubtfully, eyeing the extra wheels screwed onto the back tire.

"Eventually, yep. But you can keep them on until you get used to it."

She climbed onto the bike in her brand new blue dress and proceeded to peddle it in circles around the middle of our garage. It was a bit too big for her, but she managed pretty well. I could tell already it wouldn't be long until those training wheels would be collecting spider webs in the corner.

She helped me make her favorite: homemade mac and cheese with mushrooms, peas and extra cheese. After dinner I brought out two red velvet cupcakes with pink icing I'd picked up after work, and put two candles in each so she had four to blow out. This was the first birthday she'd ever spent just the two of us and I wanted to make it extra special. Sadly, as things turned out, it didn't end up being the last.

I let her pick out her favorite movie and we curled up together in the king-sized bed in the master bedroom to watch it . As expected, she fell fast asleep curled up against my side before it was even half over. Instead of carrying her down the hall to her own room, I let her sleep with me that night.

Andie would be home before lunch tomorrow, but as far as I was concerned, at the moment Alexis and I were doing just fine without her.

* * *

My estranged wife breezed in the front door laden with gift bags at ten minutes before noon on Saturday. As expected, the minute she arrived the entire dynamic of our household changed.

As she showered Alexis with expensive toys from FAO Schwarz and even a small silver charm bracelet from Tiffany's, I snuck upstairs to my office to respond to e-mails and make some calls. After a few hours of work, I changed into a button-up and came back down, putting on my best cheerful Dad expression. I found them icing cookies in the kitchen, my daughter's face a Pollack-esque mess of nearly every color frosting you could think of. She was laughing like I hadn't heard her laugh in a long time, and it made me feel both happy and melancholy. Andie wouldn't have any clue that joyful sound had been mostly missing around our house lately, but I sure as hell did. Deep inside, I resented the fuck out of that fact.

Calmly I suggested Alexis go get washed up and put on her new blue dress to get ready to go meet everyone for her birthday dinner. After she left the room, Andie began cleaning up the mess they'd made, turning her back to me.

I cleared my throat. "Sounds like you guys had a fun afternoon," I stated politely.

She glanced my way. "Yep."

"So…" I hesitated. "So how goes it in the Big Apple?"

I heard her sigh softly as she wiped the center island clean of crumbs and smears. "It's great. I love it. Is that what you want to hear?"

Frowning, I replied, "I don't 'want to hear' anything, Andie. I was just…just wondering how you were."

"I'm fabulous. Wonderful. Couldn't be better. Hope that helps you sleep at night."

I swear the temperature in the kitchen dropped by a few degrees. "I sleep fine," I lied. "Can you say the same?"

"Like a goddamn baby," she muttered, turning her back to me as she rinsed out the dishcloth in the sink.

I snorted, and started to leave the room to head upstairs and make sure Alexis succeeded in washing all the icing off.

"Damon?" I stopped in my tracks, and turned to face Andie. "At this point it doesn't look like my contract is going to be extended past the first week of April. That means I'll be coming home in six weeks, as originally planned. We're going to have to talk about stuff once I'm back. You know that, right?"

"I know," I agreed, holding her gaze. "What I don't know is how that conversation is going to play out."

"Me, neither," she admitted. "Will you do me a favor in the meantime?"

"What's that?"

"Will you give some serious thought to how you really _want_ it to play out?" Her expressive green eyes widened as she searched mine. I have no idea if she found what she was looking for.

"I think about little else," I assured her, breaking our connection and heading for the stairs.

Dinner with Stefan, Katherine and the grandparents wasn't as awkward as I thought it might be. Socializing with family and making sure my daughter was happy provided excellent distractions for me and no one even seemed to notice I didn't interact with Andie much.

Alexis was the center of attention, which she thrived on, and she got spoiled rotten by her adoring family members. Seeing her eyes light up and hearing her giggle was all the balm I needed to sooth away my aggravation from earlier.

When I finally tucked her into bed, read her one of her new books and got her to sleep, I headed for the back bedroom, as was my new habit when my wife was home.

I lay there on the spare bed for a long, long time without sleeping. The bright moonlight shone through the not-quite-closed curtains and bathed the room in an otherworldly glow. I thought about my slowly splintering family, and about Elena, and about the vast gulf between the two. I loved them both, yet saw no easy way to bring them together. Unless Andie asked me for a divorce in April, my heart would remain divided.

And that division, those two separate parts of my life - they were slowly tearing me apart.

* * *

**A/N** _Thank you again to those of you who take the time to leave me a review, rec this story out to others or add me to your Favourites lists. I really appreciate it! My muse has been stubborn lately, so the writing is going much slower. I do think you guys will like the next chapter once it's written and published though. It will be as close to fluff as I think this story might get. Please leave me a review of this chapter to let me know your thoughts. Reviews help inspire me, and I love to hear from you guys! Any questions at all, please don't hesitate to ask. Have a great weekend!_


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